


Destiny's Pawn: Leviathan

by Allronix



Series: Star Wars: Destiny of the Old Republic [11]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, All Your Base Are Belong To Us, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Empath, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sensitivity (Star Wars), Found Family, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Light-Side Ending (Star Wars), Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Novelization, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Suicidal Thoughts, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allronix/pseuds/Allronix
Summary: On their way to the final Star Map, the crew is captured by the Sith flagshipLeviathan. Escaping Sith custody is only the start of the battle. Already at their breaking point, the three party leaders are pushed into destruction by a Sith's finest weapon - the truth.After the escape, the rest of the party retreats to Yavin Station to lick their wounds. In light of their the fallout from the Sith attack, the wounded crew, the damaged ship, and the incapacitated leadership, they seem like easy prey for the local band of Trandoshan pirates looking for a few more Points with the Scorekeeper.
Relationships: Carth Onasi/Female Revan
Series: Star Wars: Destiny of the Old Republic [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1362046
Comments: 33
Kudos: 24
Collections: Star Wars Fanfiction Discord





	1. Capture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UrbanQuill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanQuill/gifts), [Milksapphire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milksapphire/gifts), [iftheshoefits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iftheshoefits/gifts), [Recyclops9000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recyclops9000/gifts), [Aud_McCartney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aud_McCartney/gifts), [ShadowSpark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSpark/gifts), [Altruistic_Computer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altruistic_Computer/gifts), [Callsign_Spin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callsign_Spin/gifts), [Clio_Codex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clio_Codex/gifts), [Buggywrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggywrites/gifts).



**Chapter 1  
Capture**

_"So, we run around with our knickers down  
And hope they hadn't seen us  
For a getaway or old-fashioned lay  
Nothing beats the Starship Venus …"_

The bawdy tune shook the bulkheads of the _Ebon Hawk's_ galley, punctuated by fits of laughter and the clanking of tableware. The communal meal was something they tried to have at least once a day, while T3-M4 was in the cockpit running a diagnostic check and the autopilot. It made the protein rations and synthesizer fare seem like a celebration feast. On the heels of three Star Maps down and a final one left to go, it was as much a cause for joy as anything.

Noticeably different was Bastila's presence. While she normally stopped only long enough to have a small bowl of food before retreating into meditations or a shift in the cockpit, this time, she tarried a bit and took a seat next to Canderous.

Carth leaned back on one of the benches, arms sprawled on the back. Kairi sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. Jolee passed the bowl of replicated stew over to Mission, who took her share and passed it on down. Zaalbar was hunkered in a corner (the chairs at the table being too small for him) and gobbled down his meal with relish.

"Oh, come on now," Canderous had teased when the salty banter and silly jokes lulled into a stretch of silence. "I'm sure someone's tongue isn't occupied at the moment!"

Never one to be challenged by a Mandalorian and lose on purpose, Carth stood up from his seat and started singing.

_"So, we all left the Core. T'was really a bore.  
We'd tried every vice that pleased us.  
We'll head for the Rim, where the pickings ain't slim  
On our beat-up Starship Venus!"_

Laughter across the table. Some nervous titters of embarrassment, others great, hearty laughs as Canderous and Carth swapped verses of the bawdy spacers' favorite, that commented on the reputed "virtues" of prostitutes at different ports. Canderous started in on one verse.

_"Oh, Onderon girls will do you for pearls  
At Anchorhead, they'll do you for water  
But if you just say, want…"_

He trailed off, forgetting the next line. Bastila stood up.

_"Oh, Onderon girls will do you for pearls  
At Anchorhead, they'll do you for water  
But if you just say, want a roll in the hay  
Then go screw a Dantooine daughter!"_

That caused the entire crew to cheer and laugh as they went into the chorus and ended the song.

"Cool! Didn't think you knew THAT song, Bastila!" Mission said.

"It just proves that bawdy songs can infiltrate even the most sacred of holdings," Bastila said in a mocking parody of her "Dark Side speeches." She looked up at Canderous. "Shall we?"

Mission, never one to pass up an opportunity for good natured teasing, asked, "Gonna test some of those positions you heard in the song?"

Bastila was scandalized. "Mission!"

"Something a bit more mundane, I'm afraid," Canderous said. "I volunteered to pilot this shift. We're just headed to the cockpit."

That seemed to be the signal that started everyone with the cleaning up and heading separate ways into the ship. Kairi was last in the room. She sighed contentedly and shook her head. It was good to see Canderous and Bastila getting along so well. In fact, they had been inseparable since the Hrakert rift incident. She certainly wished them the best, whatever this budding closeness became.

She yawned and stretched. She had changed for bed some time ago, just wearing a plain black shift—ankle length and sleeveless, cut wide across the shoulders.. She felt happy and safe, the echoes of joy and closeness among the crew having the same effect on her empathy as a hot bath would have to tired muscles. She gathered up the dishes and put them in the sanitizer for cleaning, then tidied up the galley, humming the tune as she did so.

_There is no comfort; there is suffering  
There is no love; there is loss._

The intrusive thought broke the peace she had earlier. There would not be many more nights like this. Korriban was a dangerous world, and after that, they would still need to confront Malak somehow. And, even in the best of scenarios, the unity of the crew would cease to be all too soon.

More disturbingly, those intrusive thoughts and strange dreams and still no answers. The last one, the one of the Revan-figure with her own face, bothered her the most. She tried to put it out of her mind, but when left alone, her thoughts would inevitably drift back to the topic. 

Could it be that the Mandalorian Wars left Revan seeing such carnage and pain that despair and rage were the only recourse? Zhar spoke of a void within Revan that duty or noble causes could not fill. Canderous spoke of Revan sacrificing lives by the thousands and fighting not only from the bridge of a battleship, but on the field itself, the scarlet-trimmed robe (white in early battles, black in the later) and masked face becoming the last thing many of his people would see. Little sacrifices becoming greater and greater, and having no one to turn to, no one to confide in—always apart and alone. And in the end, nothing would change. If not the Mandalorians, or the Sith, there would always be some threat. And even the Republic was rife with corrupt senators, callous capitalists (such as Czerka, who changed flags as easily as they ravaged planets), and fat crime lords—a case of the bad fighting the worse. All the while the Council seemed to dictate from the cloistered enclaves about the virtues of the Light while the universe seemed indifferent at best.

How very lonely a place Revan's world must have been...Kairi shivered, despite the even temperature. She would have to treasure her few memories and hope they would be enough when the inevitable happened. She could not afford to take one moment for granted.

Perhaps a walk would do her good. No, there was something better than that for easing her worried thoughts. Every bit as calming as Dorak's book of mantras, but infinitely more useful. She left the galley and turned down the curved corridor.

HK-47 was in his usual spot, stationed by the ship's auxiliary turret, running a tactical simulation through the ship's computer. The droid's head popped up, and he retracted his connection to the computer upon seeing her.

"Greeting: Hello, Master. Query: Have you had trouble reaching sleep mode yet again?"

"I'm afraid so, HK," she said gently. "How are you feeling? Have those upgrades I found on Manaan helped you?"

"Statement: I am functioning at optimum capacity, save for the block on my core memory and the destruction of my assassination protocol. Both of which I fear are irreparable."

"Maybe it's not such a terrible thing that one protocol being shut down. It's certainly caused a lot of trouble, after all."

"Query: If my protocol were functional, would you not make use of it? There have been many meat-bags that have inconvenienced you. Had my protocol been in place, it would be my pleasure to terminate them."

It had appeal...for half a second. "That's...um...a sweet thought, HK, but I'm a big girl. I can usually take care of my own problems."

"Retraction: I did not mean to imply you are inept in battle, master!"

She patted the droid's metal shoulder "It's quite all right. May I run a check on your circuit connections? It would at least be something to do, and I know how much you like being in top condition."

"Statement: I cannot object to the idea of being maintained and battle-ready. I must say that other than your unsettling regard for life, I cannot recall a finer master."

"If you want the truth," she admitted, taking a wire tester and opening up the droid's back. "At least one of us should get our core memory restored."

"Acknowledgment: Indeed. Surely, I cannot be the only one of my kind. Here I am, surrounded by meat-bags and servile droids when I desire true perfection. Truly, there must be other droids like me in the universe. Query: Do you think so, master?"

"Well…"

"Statement: Certainly, master, humiliate your pet droid."

"Keep behaving like this, and I might not polish you until we get into port," she teased.

"Statement: You can be a cruel master indeed. I like you."

She laughed and finished her test. She saw the toolbox nearby and summoned the soldering gun to her hand.

"Statement: I have always found your capacities most fascinating. How is that done?"

Kairi glanced over at the toolkit, a bit out of arms' reach, and at the soldering tool in her hand. She had not really been thinking about it, but it was becoming more second nature for her to use Jedi abilities. _Comfortable...too comfortable._

She shifted position. "I... I really didn't think about it, HK. Sorry, I'll try to be more careful when using my powers from now on." She started working on a loose connection, but it took effort to will her hands steady.

"Clarification: I see nothing wrong with using the abilities programmed into your matrix, master. I only meant to say that you have become increasingly adept with implementing those functions."

She shook her head. "That ought to do it for that connection. It looks like the other functions are in top shape." With a sigh, she admired her handiwork for a moment before sliding his panel shut. "HK, do you ever think you’ve accessed parts of your core memory—some reference that doesn't make sense, a bit of data that seems out of place—that sort of thing?"

"Statement: It is hard to say. There are many partial strings and apparently superfluous code in memory, but whether those are references to my core memory or garbage data, I cannot know. Why? Has your programming been faulty lately, master?"

"Well, not more than usual," she admitted. "But there have been many occasions where it feels like I should know something, or all the things I do know and can't remember where I learned them. Just petty things but adding them all up makes me...concerned. I don't even know why I know your systems so well. You certainly aren't built like most droids."

"Statement: I do not know why you are so adept, either, but I will try not to analyze that bit of data, only be grateful that I am in competent hands. If we were not in hyperspace, I would propose that we go and kill something to cheer ourselves up."

Kairi sighed. Despite being such an incorrigibly destructive droid, HK-47 was still a dutiful one. In his own way, he was trying to serve. "Maybe I'll ask you to help test the aft guns later by running an attack drill. You're very good with those. In the meantime, recharge those power cells and don't worry too much about me. I'm still just a confused meat-bag, after all."

"Statement: You are no meat-bag. You are my master. Signing off." HK-47 slumped over, assuming a dormant mode for self-diagnostics and recharge. Kairi shook her head at the droid and continued her pacing around the ship.

She passed by the armory where she heard the "whish" sound of sword cutting air. Stopping at the door, she peeked in. Juhani held two short swords, one in each hand, as she gracefully seemed to dance about to armory. Her eyes were closed, and she was whispering something under her breath that Kairi could not hear. As she ducked invisible blows, and stuck back and unseen opponents, Kairi admired her grace of movement. Her stances were not Jedi. Rather, they seemed...a broad smile spit Kairi's face as she recognized them—Mandalorian stances. Canderous had learned there was more to melee combat than grabbing the largest blade and charging, and it would seem as though Juhani was also learning how to incorporate what was useful into her own style.

Not really wanting to interrupt Juhani at her practice, she turned around and headed back for the cargo hold. Zaalbar was sitting on the deckplates, polishing Bacca's blade while T3-M4 buzzed slowly to the engine room to check on some maintenance matter. Zaalbar looked up at her and waved, letting out an inquiring warble.

"Just taking a walk, Zaalbar. Are you all right?"

_< <"More than that. But I know you are sad. What weighs on your branches, Kairi?">>_

"Just the knowledge that this will end soon," she said. "I will miss you all so much."

_< <"You and this crew will always have a home in my village as reward for your heroism. As Lesser Chieftain, I also can conduct a wedding, should you and Carth wish it.">>_

"Oh. It's a little soon for that, Zaalbar. Besides, I don't think I could drop out of the universe like Jolee did. There's...there's still so much to do. I just…"

_< <"Love of clan calls one hand, while the task of Chieftain calls another.">>_

"That's pretty close," she said, walking into the room and sitting next to him. "Jedi aren't supposed to have clan, though. I'm sure you have heard that by now."

_< <"I do not understand why Jedi cannot have a clan. A clan to a Wookiee is like the roots of the wroshyr – without those roots, they cannot stand. Even I lived only as a beast until the Gods sent Mission.">> _He thought a moment. _< <"Bacca said, 'Trust always the wisdom of the trees; not always the words of the shaman.' There are no trees here, but there is life. What wisdom can it give?">>_

"I'm…still trying to hear it, Zaalbar."

_< <"Trees speak slowly. Especially here.">>_

"What did the Embassy say? I didn't hear about that."

_< <"Father and I will use communicators Czerka left behind to contact the Republic’s diplomats until we have established enough trust for a face to face meeting. Mission will be with us to translate. We will be on watch for any treachery, however. Father is calling a meeting of the Chiefs right now to tell them about the idea. It will be difficult, so soon after Czerka, but if we are alone, we risk them returning. That, I cannot allow.">> _He leaned back against the wall. _< <"The Republic has good laws. And the Sith being allied with Czerka does not help any case their Empire wish to make. That, and what I saw with my own eyes. It was very hard to hold Mission close so she could not see her world destroyed around her. I…can never forget that.">>_

"I…can't either, Zaalbar."

_< <"Finish your walk around the ship and sleep tonight. We will be here in the morning, at least.">>_

"Thank you, Zaalbar. You're wiser than you think."

He nodded, and Kairi got up, using his large shoulder for leverage, and patting his furry head before leaving. The next stop was Jolee's quarters in the makeshift sickbay. The elderly man was brewing up some healing herb concoction using some equipment that had probably once been used to test the purity of Spice and other contraband chemicals. He acknowledged her with a nod before going back to work.

In the cockpit, Bastila and Canderous were exchanging barbs and commentary. Kairi had to chuckle. Canderous certainly changed quite a bit from the callous mercenary they'd picked up on Taris. Well, perhaps it was only a matter of getting him to a place where he could afford to be the honorable warrior he forgot he was after the Wars. And what a relief it was to see Bastila start to drop the frigid detachment and stop trying to set herself apart so much. Well, people adapted in their own way, she figured, even if the concept of a prized padawan and a Mandalorian flirting by insults would come as a scandalous surprise to most.

By now she was starting to feel at ease enough to go to sleep. She turned around and headed for the crew quarters in the aft of the ship. Yet, even there, she took a small detour to check in the quarters Mission shared with Zaalbar.

She was already asleep, the teenager sprawled out on her stomach, one of her lekku lucked under her chin as a pillow. She was in too deep a sleep to dream right now, registering as all but a whisper to Kairi's readings.

Kairi straightened the blanket that had fallen part of the way off the bed and rubbed Mission's back gently. Her eyes started to sting. Blinking them, she had to wipe the damp under her eyes. How easily Mission could light up a room with a smile, and how easy it was to let her into one's heart. Kairi felt proud to see her grow up in front of her, to see a young woman taking shape. Oh, but how cold the universe would seem without seeing her smile each morning.

A gentle laugh. "Figures I'd find you here." She looked up to see Carth in the doorway. "What are you doing up still?" he asked.

Kairi sighed. "When I can’t sleep, I… I go around to check up on everyone." Her tongue felt unnaturally thick, and try as she might not to stare, her eyes wanted to note every detail. He wore only thin breeches, and they did nothing to hide his well-toned body. Her gaze lingered on his warm smile, those strong arms and hands. When her gaze started to go further south, she forced her eyes away from him, reminding herself for the hundredth time why it was inappropriate to look on him that way.

_There is no passion, there is serenity…_

He no doubt caught her staring but said nothing about it. "So, that solves the mystery of the blanket angel. I knew for damn sure it wasn't Canderous."

"It's...peaceful...watching you sleep," she admitted. "I also come in to check up on Mission sometimes, especially when she has a nightmare. I... I think I..." Despite her earlier words to Bastila, she had to make sure of what was in her heart. They deserved better than her own guesswork—especially Carth and Mission. She looked straight at him. "Carth, what is love? What makes it love, and not just...something it's not?"

He exhaled a long breath and crossed over to her, putting an arm about her shoulders. "Damn, beautiful, you never do pick your questions small, do you?"

"The Council talks so much about passion, obsession, dependency, infatuation...all the things that masquerade as love but aren't. Yet, they have little to say about what love itself is. All the better, I suppose, if one wanted to dismiss the very idea as illusion." She met his eyes. "But you have loved, Carth—deeply. How did you know the difference? Can you know the difference?"

Carth was silent for a long time, his hand stroking her shoulders and then snaking into her hair. "Trying to describe it would be like you describing the Force, but..." Kairi couldn't help leaning into his hand as he worked the tension from the top of her neck. "But the point when you know? It's when you can make a sacrifice and know you aren't just doing that to make the other person think better of you, but because you genuinely want what's best. It's when...when you trust someone so completely..." He cleared his throat. "But there are as many kinds of love as there would be aspects of the Force. Some of them aren't pretty, Kairi, and it sometimes gets twisted and corrupted into all the things you mentioned. Still…"

He took his hand away, and she felt a sudden pang of loss. Though Carth was in the same room with her, he seemed far away. "Without someone...something to care for...we're dead inside. Sure, it's not like air or water...but there's not much point in going on. The world's just gray and it's so...so cold." His voice faded as he spoke, the last word more felt than heard.

Kairi got up and lightly touched his arm. He made no move, save to open his eyes.

"And knowing how cold it gets makes it that much scarier," he admitted. He was still gazing on the cot where Mission was deep in sleep. "Losing your child has to be the worst, believe me. You keep seeing other people's children growing up...and children without parents, and the instincts kick in along with the pain—all over again. It's a hell I wouldn't even wish on Saul…"

Kairi stood aside as Carth finished tucking Mission in.

"You love her."

"Like she was my own," he whispered. "And so do you."

"Yes." Kairi answered. She had her answer now, she was certain. Many aspects, many paths, one woefully inadequate name for it all. The warmth and light of it called to her, along with the possibility of being badly burnt. But the cold and the void loomed ahead...a future of being bound by the Order's dictates as tightly as a belted robe. Staying away from the fire, staying ignorant, would be the safer recourse, perhaps.

"Carth, a last question, please."

"Ask away."

She was looking up at him now. So close…it would be easy to hold her questions and just take the simple comfort of his presence. Yet, it had to be asked. "What...what is the worst part of losing love?"

There was pain in his eyes to be certain, but there was something smoldering beneath it—a spark that begged to be brought back to life. He gently traced her arms, taking one hand in his own while the other reached up to cup her face.

"All the opportunities you wanted to take. All the times you could have told someone how much they mean to you and just took it for granted that they knew already. All the lost chances for some good memories, because those memories are all you have left to live on when the cold comes."

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

Putting her hands on his shoulders to help balance, she kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

She could sense sadness, a faint sense of rejection. "Anytime, beautiful," he said.

Kairi sank back down on her heels and shook her head. “I know the roles we _should_ have. I know how I _should_ feel. We won't have very much time after all…"

She felt the sour taste of anger for a moment. “I’m pretty aware of the ‘shoulds.’ Fleet regs when it come to Jedi are as long as a Hammerhead cruiser. Then there’s…” He stopped himself. “Let’s just say my home world had a complicated relationship with the Order.” She had heard enough bits and pieces to know “complicated” meant relations that were friendlier on paper than in practice. “But there’s what ‘should’ be and what really is. Ever give any thought as to what you want? Has anyone ever asked that?”

Kairi had limited memories to go over, but Carth’s question was one that stung. She had been so busy running from one disaster to the next; escaping Taris, Jedi training she was in no position to refuse, the hunt for the Maps…Worse, she remembered how she thought during those early days and the cold thought patterns that crept up far too often. She concluded they were toxic old thoughts from the life she had before the _Hawk_ , and it was a life she didn’t want to return to.

“You’ve been the only one who asks that,” she said. “And all the training, the thoughts, the state of the universe… maybe even the Force itself is intent on telling me how little my desires matter.”

“And that’s…that’s not right. Maybe you were told that your whole life. I know the Jedi tell you that, and I let you know what I think of the agenda they have for you.”

“I told you that I would respect your boundaries and not try to replace your wife. It’s getting more difficult to honor that promise since kissing you on Manaan because I want to…” She shook her head. “It might be easier or better for us not to give into our feelings, but it doesn’t mean the emotions aren’t there.”

He put a finger to her lips. "I'm not made of glass, Kairi. Neither are you—no matter how the Jedi are going to wish it otherwise. There's going to be consequences, sure, but I know I can live with mine."

At his words, a fierce debate started inside Kairi. Could she live with the consequences? How much would she regret if she went ahead? How much would she regret if she didn't? How much would it all hurt when it was over? Was this going to be a stellar disappointment? It would be easy to lose her nerve right here and leave them both hanging, but the side deck was already played—all they had were the cards on the table.

She glanced over to Mission, still curled up on her bunk. "Not here."

Carth nodded and took her hand. "C'mon."

She walked with him to his own quarters. With Canderous gone on the bridge for the next couple hours, they at least had as much privacy as they could afford. No sooner had the door sealed behind her than she'd looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He registered shock for a moment, and she feared she had done the wrong thing, but it passed, and soft relief and joy danced down her nerves as he deepened the kiss, his hands taking her waist, sliding towards her hips. Her shift was so thin that his hands practically burned through its fabric. Oh, Great Force, yes. This felt wonderful. He smelt vaguely of soap. He must have just used the fresher before checking up on her and Mission. She felt surrounded by his warmth, safe as ever in his presence, and the same comfort and trust reflected back through his own emotions.

They broke off the kiss to come up for air but did not pull apart the embrace. "Kairi," he whispered raggedly. "Please let this be what you really want…"

"I…" she took a breath to steady herself. "There's only the cold for me to go back to. And only the memories I make now to help me through it. For you, I don’t think it is much different. I feel so much for you, and I know your feelings for me." She looked up. "I don't want to look back on our time together with regret, no more than you." She swallowed hard. "I…. I want a memory. And would like to give you one as well. Is…is that all right?"

"Oh," he whispered. "I'd like that…" He ducked his head to kiss the soft skin at her neck, followed by a gentle nibble that forced a ragged sigh from her. "I'd be more than honored to."

Continue his slow pattern of kisses and nibbles on her neck, he grabbed handfuls of her nightgown, hitching it up. Her exposed legs suddenly felt cold and sensitive. He'd just slipped his hands under the hem to caress her thighs when…

WHAM!

The ship jolted hard, throwing them to the deck. Alarm klaxons wailed and the emergency lights came on. Swearing loudly, Carth hit the door panel and it flew open as he raced towards the cockpit. As the rest of the crew spilled into the corridor, Kairi tried to keep order among them as their panic and worry hit her and made her even less steady on her feet.

"What…what's going on," Mission was groggy, but waking up fast. The shaking had scared her more than she wanted to display, no doubt reminding her of when Taris quaked beneath her feet during the Sith bombardment.

She took the girl's shoulders. "Get to the center room and check the sensors," she told Mission, and turned her to run towards them.

The ship lurched again, and Kairi was struggling with another wave of panic. Confusion and fear slammed into her like a hail of stones. Despite it, she struggled to keep her head, dashing through the ship and giving commands for battle-stations. "HK, get on the aft turrets. Zaalbar, Jolee, head for the engine room and see if you can fix the power drain. Take TeeThree."

From the direction of the cockpit was worse. Carth was furious, Bastila struggling not to lash out in fear or anger. Canderous had pushed aside emotions for the time being and was scrambling up to the forward turret. Carth had taken over for Canderous in the pilot's chair and was furiously working the controls.

"Sith Interdictor ship," he shouted. "It must have been waiting for us in the hyperspace route."

They'd been brought out of hyperspace already, drifting helplessly. Looming ever closer, a Sith Interdictor ship gleamed like a metal firaxan. Kairi could not take her eyes from it, a hazy memory from the _Endar Spire_ and their Taris escape playing before her eyes.

"The ship..." she whispered.

"Controls are not responding. We've been hit with an ion cannon. Damn them!" Carth banged the useless navigation console. "This boat doesn't have the firepower it would take anyway." His hands flew across the panels, adjusting switches and dials.

"I know that ship..." Kairi whispered.

"I know," Carth said, and the stab of rage and fear jolted back to her. "It's the same ship, Kairi...The _Leviathan_...Saul Karath's vessel—my old mentor."

Bastila did not help. "You said you wanted to encounter the admiral again, Carth," she said with a sigh. "One should be careful what one wishes for."

Carth's black fury knocked into her like a wrecking ball, but also gave her enough of an adrenaline rush to leap between them. "Stop this—both of you. This will not help us. We have to concentrate on getting out of this, saving ourselves and the crew."

"Kairi's right," Carth said. "But it's not going to be easy. Saul won't underestimate us. He's no fool and we can count on plenty of guards to deal with on any escape attempt...and I also know Saul will want to be right in the middle of it."

His surface emotions were fear for the crew and worry about their situation. It was what she could see through the fissures; the thrill of impending confrontation, a thirst for blood, and grim delight at the idea of self-destruction that took the enemy with him Kairi's mental shields could barely manage it, not like she could block Carth out entirely anyway. "Carth," she said, her voice barely able to top a whisper.

_What are you going to ask of him? To focus on survival, or to throw himself into the battle so that he can be sacrificed if necessary?_

"I'm not going to do anything stupid. I won't throw our lives away in some mad quest for vengeance, but if I get a chance to kill Saul during our escape, then nobody had better try and stop me."

"Talk of an escape is somewhat premature, don't you think?" Bastila argued. "We don't even have an idea as to how we're going to get out for this mess."

* * *

Kairi gathered the crew together hastily and explained the situation.

"I know they'll want Bastila, and if this man is Carth's mentor..." she said. "Now, I'll try and stick with them. Maybe they won't see me as important."

"I doubt it," Jolee said. "You may have started this as an unknown, my dear, but Kairi Niko the Jedi has done enough to raise some Sith eyebrows. There's also the matter of -"

"I've been in the holds of a few Interdictor ships myself," Canderous said, cutting off Jolee. "I'm guessing this commander is smart. He'll scatter us around the detention blocks, as far from the high security section as possible."

"Why would he do that?" Mission said. "Why not just toss all of us there?"

Canderous tapped his fingers against the table. "Because Sith are interested in Jedi, and there's no worse blood than old blood. The rest of us are lower priority. They'll definitely underestimate you, Mission. As far as your average thick-headed guard goes, you're just a foolish Twi'lek."

"I could always goad the guards into making a mistake," Mission said. "If they put me in solitary confinement, I can pick the locks and get the rest of you free."

Zaalbar was appalled. _< <"It's too dangerous, Mission! The guards are just as likely to kill you.">>_

Canderous shook his head. "And if it's just you, then the admiral can send the whole damn battalion after you. No, we're going to have to do something sneaky."

Kairi had an idea. "The droids have backups. I can set them on a back-up timer—say six hours. If the Sith don't turn them into scrap, they might have a chance." She looked up. "Zaalbar, come on. I'll need an extra set of hands, I think. The rest of you, come up with a plan of escape on your own, and _don't_ tell me what it is." She and Zaalbar took the droids and vanished down the corridor.

A second of nervous hesitation followed before Juhani stood up and was next to offer a suggestion. "It is possible that I may avoid detection. There are many hiding places on this ship, and my ability to mask myself with the Force could aid me in this."

"Then you'll stay with the ship. If the worst should happen, someone needs to flee and warn the Republic," Canderous said. "I've an idea—damn risky, but they'll never see it coming. Jolee, you have any argonel in your stash?"

"Argonel? You may be a big brute, but you aren't immortal."

"I know," he said darkly.

Jolee studied Canderous for a moment, then reached in his utility belt, pulling a vial of a viscous black substance. "If the initial shock doesn't kill you, your implant will process that in several hours. During that time, however, you'll be practically dead, even to the medical scanners." He handed it over. "I know better than to ask if you want to risk that. It's just a reminder."

Canderous nodded and headed for the armory. "It'll have to look like an accident. A cluster bomb should leave enough burns to make it look like I was killed rigging the engine...Of course, that makes it riskier…"

Mission swallowed hard. "Canderous…"

He patted her head and smiled sadly, bereft of his usual bravado. "It's all right, _vod’ika_. We're all risking the same thing."

After putting the hasty back-up into place, Zaalbar nervously went back to the center room to make his stand. The ship wasn't far now from the docking bay. Kairi headed to the cockpit. Carth was still cursing at the engines, trying to summon enough of the _Hawk's_ power to try and break free. It was fruitless, and all of them knew it. It wasn't going to stop him from trying.

They heard Mission's shouting only a moment before it happened.

"Canderous...don't be so...Canderous!"

The sound of a partly muffled explosion reached their ears. Carth and Kairi were out of their seats and running back towards the engine room. Kairi could feel the girl's panic, and Canderous…

She didn't sense him. It gripped her. He was unconscious, or…

Kairi didn't have time enough to think about it before the _Ebon Hawk_ had been swallowed by the massive ship, the docking bay doors sealing shut behind them. Overridden by the _Leviathan's_ control, the docking ramp of the ship yawned open ominously and silver armored Sith poured into the ship.

They were overwhelmed and knew it. The last thing Kairi, Carth, and Bastila saw after that was the barrel of a blaster set to heavy stun, taking them down before they could pull weapons of their own.

"We have them, Admiral," said the guard triumphantly.

"Good, take the Jedi and Commander Onasi to the torture chamber. I'll be down to see to them. What else did you find?"

"We're still searching the ship, sir. We'll present a full report once completed."

"Very good."

* * *

Commander Gryus Bates shook his head as he looked at what they had pulled out.

They'd spent a couple hours at the task, at least. Smuggling ships were always the worst. As soon as smarter detection devices were out, the smugglers were already two steps smarter than it. Not to mention the technicians and soldiers that walked aboard to pull prisoners from the boat had encountered resistance that ranged from attacks to non-violent headaches.

It finally seemed to be wrapping up as his lieutenant came to report. "Bastila, Carth, and the crew have been taken prisoner as you ordered, Commander."

"Excellent," Bates said. "Have you searched the ship thoroughly? Admiral Karath warned me to be on alert for any kind of treachery."

"They had quite the zoo in there, I'd say," commented the officer. "First there was the Wookiee. We've pumped him with enough stun blasts to render him unconscious. Took half the clip and one of the guards’ heads. He was guarding a Twi'lek girl with quite the mouth on her. She swore at Kilron and spat on his uniform...and you should hear the things she called my mother. Admiral Karath needs to teach her the proper respect for the Sith."

Bates rolled his eyes. "Admiral Karath doesn't have time to bother with some Twi'lek girl. Take her away to solitary confinement. I'll leave it up to you to teach her the proper respect for the Sith. Were those the only crew members?"

"Not hardly," the officer said. "Two inactive droids were found in the back. I think one is a protocol model. The other's an astromech. We've pulled them both into the droid bay for a memory wipe."

"Very good."

"Commander Bates!" the shout from a couple of the salvage team got his attention. He walked over there to see a pair of guards removing a stretcher with a white cloth over it—the universal sign of a corpse. He pulled it back and shook his head, disbelieving what he saw. The man’s arms were severely burned, but the Taung-skull tattoo was clear enough.

"A Mandalorian, corporal? What was he doing aboard their ship?"

"We found him in the engine room, apparently attempting to rig the ship's engines to break free of our tractor beam when something exploded."

"Admiral Karath wants us to question all the prisoners. Did you get any information from him?"

"No, sir. The scanners are all flat. I'd call him dead."

"Dump the Mandalorian in the medical bay. They'll figure out what to do with his carcass."

Nodding, the corporal covered the stretcher again and headed for the lift. No sooner had the corporal left then two others called for his attention. Bates marched over to see an ensign and a lieutenant dragging an old man down the boarding ramp.

"We found an old man in the back, Commander Bates," said the ensign. "I... I think we should keep him separate from the others...for questioning."

"A strange request..." Bates muttered. "Why do you think this old man should be segregated?"

"I'm not sure, Commander," the ensign said. "After speaking with him, I... just think that we should question him away separate from the others."

"I... I agree," said the lieutenant. "After speaking with the old man, I... think that we should question him away separate from the others."

Bates sighed. "Very well—the admiral is probably too busy to bother with this old man anyway. Put him in solitary confinement for interrogation. Report back to me if you learn anything. Has the entire ship been searched?"

"We searched from top to bottom, Commander Bates," said the lieutenant. "Someone would have to be invisible for us not to find them in there."

"Well done. Return to your posts, and I will tell the Admiral of this."

As the last group of officers drug the old man off, Bates went into his office, a small area off the hangar bay, and started to draft his report. Before he did that, however...He took the keycard from around his neck, unlocked the bottom drawer, and pulled out a fine silver flask. He took two gulps now, and promised himself the whole thing once he finished the damn report...


	2. Torture

**Chapter 2**   
**Torture**

Carth's hearing was the first sense to return, hearing the high-level energy field before he could bear to open his eyes. When he did, he found the room to be pleasantly dark, lit by red piping on the walls. He was confined to a small cell, cylindrical in shape, about a meter and a third in circumference. The humming, crackling power field that enclosed it stretched from floor to ceiling. Reaching out, he got a nasty shock from the energy "walls," confirming what he already suspected.

He was in a torture cage. Clinical and clean for those who wanted to avoid cleaning up blood or other bodily fluids spilled by more "classic" methods, these were a high-tech way of satisfying even the most depraved sadist. Carth had heard of them; a Sith invention the Mandalorians developed a taste for.

In the dim light, he could make out another field...no…. two of them. He was in the chamber on the far right of the room. In the torture cage at the center wall, Bastila stood with her eyes closed and hands behind her back. As he squinted, he could see her lips moving, possibly repeating some Jedi mantra. On the left side of the room, directly across the room from him…

"Carth…?" Kairi's voice. He was relieved to know she was alive—less than relieved to see her in one of these cages.

They'd been stripped to the underclothing, no doubt to add humiliation to the list of cruelties. Carth couldn't help a sarcastic thought about the circumstances which he would rather see Kairi half-naked. _Your timing stinks, Saul._

"Kairi, I know this isn't..." He wanted to touch her, just one last time. "But you're going to have to block us out if you can. Keep to your own mind."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Survive."

The door pulled open, allowing uncomfortably bright light to spill into the dark room. It took Carth's eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness, but when he did…

Carth had always remembered Saul Karath wearing the orange, yellow, and red of the Republic, or the green and orange uniform of higher rank, brown hair under a cap. Now, he was gray and black all over. The crisp Sith uniform hanging from his now-gaunt frame, his face deeply lined and his hair almost white. He was backed up by two armed guards in silver armor that he set by the open door as he walked to the control panel at the center of the room.

Saul examined Bastila with a leer then turned to Kairi. Carth knew Saul too well not to see the flash of amazement cross his former mentor's face. Turning from the women, he put his hands behind his back and walked to Carth's cage.

"Carth, it has been far too long since we last spoke. I see the recent months have not been kind in your case, I barely recognized you."

"But I recognize you, Saul." Carth struggled to speak, even though the anger had fashioned itself into an icy calm. "I see your face every night even as a promise myself that I would kill you for what you did to my home world."

Saul seemed disappointed. "Have you learned nothing in your time spent under me? As a soldier, you should know by now that casualties are unavoidable. It was an act of war. You knew as well as I did how the Jedi saw Telos as a place to hide. We had to cut off -"

"It was a cowardly act of betrayal! Your fleet bombed civilian targets into oblivion without warning or provocation, and the blood of those innocent people is on your hands!" Even without the power field in his cage, Carth could feel his nerves vibrate, every fiber of himself wanting to strike out and make Saul feel the same kind of pain.

"In war, even the innocent must die. The Sith would not accept me until I had truly proved that I turned my back on the Republic by bombing the planet." Saul finished with a shrug, as if he had done nothing more than announce the winning times of a swoop race.

"My wife died in that attack, Saul. And for that, I swear I'll kill you."

"You used to be a man of action, not of empty words. Cling to your lust for revenge if you must but spare me your tired threats. I've heard them all before." He sighed and paced back to the control panel in the room's center. "Besides, you are an insignificant part of these events anyway. Lord Malak is far more interested in your Jedi companions. He has great plans for them."

Bastila was not to be intimidated. "We will never serve Malak, or the Dark Side. The Sith will be destroyed, Admiral Karath. As will you if you do not turn away from this path."

"Your words are brave, Bastila, but the lure of the Dark Side is hard to resist - or so I've been told." His face twisted into a smile that made Carth seethe. "I wonder if your companion is as devoted to the Light as you are?"

Kairi narrowed her eyes. "I know my loyalties."

"Oh, really?" Saul laughed. "I'm sure Lord Malak will find that...amusing. The Dark Lord would probably reward me if I just killed you once and for all. But he may want to question you, given the trouble you've caused him...and the history between you."

Carth shuddered. Anything was possible when it came to Kairi. He had a few guesses – SIS and Service Corps were the two he kept coming back to - but no solid proof. If Saul knew about her amnesia, it could be just another sick game of his. Looking back, Carth knew Saul preferred to get enemies to destroy themselves through playing mind games until they broke and turned on each other.

"History?" Kairi's voice wavered slightly.

Carth shouted to her. "He's pulling something, Kairi. Don't fall for it."

Saul whipped around. "I don't recall saying anything to you, Onasi!" He seemed to search Kairi's face for a moment before stepping away from her cage. "You mean...oh, this can't be true, can it? Oh, you really don't know, do you? You have no idea what's going on here, do you?"

Carth could see the terror on Kairi's face, and feel it mirrored in his own heart.

Saul shrugged. "Well, I won't be the one to deprive Malak of the pleasure of telling you himself. The Dark Lord will no doubt torture you for information and his own twisted pleasure. Eventually, you will tell him everything. The Sith can be very persuasive. However, Lord Malak is in another sector. It may be some time before he arrives, so I suppose I'll have to fill in until then. Computer? Activate the torture cells."

The energy field came to life, and a scream was ripped from their throats as the jolts of power coursed through them, pure and cruel. The first wave cut down his back like a vibroblade and the aftershocks stung and burned as if saltwater had been poured on an open wound. Carth struggled to keep his footing, even as his muscles trembled. That Hutt-spawn traitor would not see him on his knees.

"I don't want you passing out before I've had the chance to interrogate them," Saul said firmly. "Malak would appreciate any information you can give him when he arrives."

The power was cut, and the pain stopped, leaving its echoes on his raw nerves. Bastila was shaking a little. Kairi was weaving like a drunk. The rage pushed the pain from his mind for a moment and gave Carth the strength to speak.

"Don't waste your breath, Saul! We won't answer any of your questions."

"I'm sure _you_ won't, Carth. I know you too well for that," He once again walked over to Kairi's cage. She was looking glassy-eyed and shaken, but still attempting to put on a brave front. "However, we both know your friend's loyalties in the past to be somewhat...flexible."

"What?" she asked. Her voice was steady to anyone who did not know her well, but Carth could see it in her eyes, the struggle brought on by the intense pain. He wondered if he could send strength to her, the same way he had hurled his anger at her on Dantooine.

"I am the one interrogating you, not the other way around. You will answer questions. I will ask them," Saul said sharply.

He activated her cage and her shriek of pain hit Carth like a physical blow. He would not cry out. He would not beg Saul...he would not betray her...

Saul cut the power. Kairi was huddled on the floor, shaking a little, her voice raspy as she looked up.

"My loyalty is a true as Carth's," she said quietly.

_You tell him, beautiful._

Saul raised an eyebrow, glancing between Carth's cage and Kairi's. “Oh, really, now? Most interesting, Onasi. Interesting indeed. I'm impressed. Tell me, were you involved in this little game? Or have the Jedi kept you as much in the dark as I think?”

“Uh-uh. I know what you’re trying to pull. It’s not going to work.” _You taught me this game, Saul. Keep your attention on me and you’ll be too busy to hurt them..._ “I get out of this cage, and you’re a dead man.”

Saul raised an eyebrow, but otherwise ignored him and focused back on Kairi. “That statement was telling. As was your state of _dress_ when my men found you. Time to put that loyalty to the test. I doubt torturing you will gain me your full cooperation. Your will is far too strong to be broken that way." His eyes fixed on Carth's cage, a predatory grin lighting his smug face. "However, even the strongest of heroes has trouble watching those they care about in pain. The interrogation begins now. Each time you refuse to answer or give me a false answer, Carth will suffer the consequences…"

He saw her eyes open wide, and her face contort with horror. Worse was how damned serene Bastila looked right now. No attachments...no pain...if Saul threatened to torture Bastila, they'd know he wouldn't attempt killing her. Malak wanted her battle meditation. Her Jedi abilities would offer a modicum of protection, as well. If it was Bastila being threatened with watching either of them being hit...Carth doubted she'd really care, aside from some guilt about failing to protect her charges.

As awful as the prospect was, he didn’t envy Kairi's position right now. He was just sorry Kairi hadn't heeded Bastila's warning...sorry that he let her get close enough to develop feelings for him rather than doing the sane thing and running. Hell, he was dead anyway...had been dead for years.

_Bring it on, Saul_ _,_ Carth thought. _The worst you can do to me is let me join my wife without bashing your smug face in first_ _._ Taking a breath to steel himself, focusing his rage into an eerie calm, he looked over at Kairi's cell. "My pain is meaningless. Tell him nothing."

“Enough with your pretentions of chivalry, Onasi. I'm going to enjoy watching you reduced to a quivering heap.” Saul's genteel voice belied the cold anger beneath. "Now, I want answers. On what planet is the Jedi Academy at which you were trained?"

Kairi squeezed her eyes close and shook her head.

"Very well. And here is the price for your resistance…"

The pain was like being shot. It dropped him to his knees, blinding him, every cell and nerve in his body exploding, his heart pounding like it was going to burst, his throat no longer able to take in air. He didn't know if he screamed. If he did, he wasn't able to hear it…

Just as suddenly as it began the pain stopped. Carth was on his knees, retching. Kriffing hell! He was furious at himself for letting Saul reduce him to this. He forced open his eyes, at least, trying to rebuild his strength. No, he was going to get through this. He was going to get out of this cage and wring Saul’s neck for this. Anger was a great painkiller if you knew how to use it…

"Enough! Do you see what happens when you try to defy me? That first question was a test. Lord Malak already knew the Academy was on Dantooine. It has since been destroyed by our fleet. Dantooine is an empty graveyard now. Nothing remains but a smoking ruin and the charred remains of your former masters."

The body language, the calm poise, the knowing smile, the steady walk...Carth's blood boiled at seeing that…man. All the things he would do to Saul if this damn field weren't standing in the way played in his imagination as fury started to build…

Kairi was still silent, but on her knees, not looking at Saul, not saying a word. Saul kept on grandstanding.

"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, little Jedi. The fact remains that the hideout on Dantooine has been eradicated, along with any hope of someone coming to rescue you. Now, tell me your mission. How were the Jedi planning on using you to stop Lord Malak and our Sith armada?"

Kairi swallowed hard before looking up at Saul, again shaking her head.

Again, Saul turned to Carth's cage and smiled. "Perhaps you need a reminder of the consequences of refusing to cooperate."

_Good job, Kari!_ Carth thought, but then another blast of pain shuddered through him, worse than the last one. He felt like his organs were being fried. He wanted to black out...couldn't black out! The pain—the PAIN!

Again, a sudden end to the induction process, but the residual effects were still making his muscles cramped, reducing him to a huddled lump on the cell floor. Fury gave way to shame. He was weak, too weak to be of any use. He was too weak to be any help when needed, and that traitor was getting a smug satisfaction from his pain.

"Listen, can you not hear him suffering? You can spare him further agony by simply answering my questions."

He didn’t have to see her face. Somehow, he knew she was close to cracking. "We...we were…"

_Kairi…_

"We've been sent to assassinate Lord Malak," she blurted out.

Saul was infuriated. "Do you take me for a fool? The Jedi are not assassins. They would never devise such a plan." His hand went for the controls on Carth's cage.

Now Kairi had reached her edge. Her voice shook with emotion. "You...sick and evil little man, toying with us to pretend you’re not just cowering in fear of Malak.”

Carth knew Saul’s tells after being in the trenches with him through the Mandalorian War. The finger twitch, the small frown. She’d found the opening, but it just meant Saul would be turning his attention to her. It was still too difficult to speak, to shout out a distraction, take the hit for her again.

Kairi seemed to have picked up on Saul’s hesitation. “Carth told me you tried to convince him to come over, but you were trying to convince yourself. You knew what betraying the Republic would involve. Maybe it would have been easier if you had someone you could trust alongside you. Would it have soothed your conscience if he were spared, even if you burned everyone else on Telos?”

Saul refused to look at her. Another tell that she was getting to him, Carth knew. “The Republic betrayed their soldiers first, ready to fritter us away on appeasement or discard us after Malachor. Revan knew that peace was a pretty lie. War is a constant. Any threat, be they invaders from outside or those eroding our strength from within, must be crushed with overwhelming force.”

That’s when Carth regained enough strength to speak. “Telos…Taris…Dantooine. Quite a list, Saul. You like it when they can’t fight back, don’t you? Not like you can fight back against Malak…”

Saul was still icy. "Perhaps another lesson is in order?”

Oh, Great Stars...the PAIN! No words for it, just agony...Was that his voice babbling? Begging for mercy? It just kept building and building. In that moment, he felt rage...rage for the Republic, rage at Kairi...rage at Saul. Damn it, MAKE IT STOP!

He couldn't tell if it had stopped or not, but he heard Saul well enough. "I am surprised he did not pass out sooner. Rarely have I seen someone withstand such punishment and remain conscious."

Saul's frustration was hidden by decorum. Bastila stayed all prim silence and formal poise. Kairi's posture was still and steady, but she was weeping openly now.

"I can tell that I'm wasting my time here," Saul said. "When Malak arrives, you will learn my interrogation techniques are considered merciful among the Sith. I will leave you here in your cells with a small taste of the horrors you will suffer…"

Mercifully, Carth blacked out from the pain a second after the field was activated again.

He dreamed…

_It was Taris, and they were fleeing. The city was in ruins the screaming and shrieking around them. The smell of burning synthetics and the choking smoke surrounded them._

_The Leviathan...the damn Leviathan again._

_The Republic fighters were in the air, but it was too late, nothing they could do. The ground beneath him shook and he struggled to get to his feet. He had to get back to the hideout. Had to get…_

_"Commander, you can't go in there. The residential sector is a total loss." Canderous stood over him as he regained his footing. But those were Arneth's words...back on Telos...back when..._

_"I don't care. They're still in there! Get the others to evacuation point. Tell them to go on without me." The words...the same words..._

_"We've evacuated who we could back to the checkpoint. This way!"_

_He raced into the twisted maze of ruined buildings. It was the Upper City slum where they had been together for the first time. The skies were black with smoke, and it was choking him as he stumbled forward, climbing over bodies...but this wasn't...it was same and different. Gadon Thek's sightless eyes were staring into nothing. Shen and Rahasia were wrapped in a final embrace, the young couple crushed by fallen debris...Rukil sprawled the same way, only with an oddly peaceful smile on his wizened face..._

_He knew how this ended._

_"Father!" The voice had been Dustil's...the last time Carth had heard his son's voice. Now, the voice was that of an adolescent girl. “Father, where are you? Too much smoke...”_

_"Mission?"_

_A huge explosion wracked the air behind him, and Carth was thrown to the ground, finding himself covered in rubble, the wind knocked out of him as the evacuation ship set down a couple meters away. Canderous hopped out and dragged him aboard the evacuation ship, just as Arneth had. The tiny ship wove through the debris and the shots from Sith orbital cannons just as a gigantic bomb hit their last position, turning the place they had been standing into fire and dust._

"Wake up, Onasi. We both know you're too stubborn to die."

Carth found himself in a small cell—not the torture cages. It at least had a sleep bunk bolted to the wall. He had been treated with surprising care when it was all over. He was still groggy and it too much pain to fight right now. Blearily, he sat up and looked across the forcefield.

Saul was alone.

"What do you want?"

"Not what I want, Carth," said Saul. "I'm prepared to give you everything you want."

"Not unless you can rebuild Telos and pull Morgana from the dead," he hissed.

"Well, some things are beyond me, but not all of it." Saul punctuated it with a shrug, the leaned in a little closer. "I can give you the galaxy if you'd let me."

Carth broke eye contact, jerking his head away. Even with the damn field, Saul was too close. "I’ve heard Corellians have nine hells. Pick one and go there."

"And I’ve heard _Telosians_ were considered the Jedi’s castoffs.” Saul countered. “Or their poor relations and breeding stock. Considering some of the _choice_ words you had for the Order, I’m surprised you’re tangled up in _their_ schemes.”

Carth grimaced.

“The Republic is dying, Carth. You know it, even if you're too damn stubborn to admit it. And look where loyalty to it has left you?" Saul argued, punctuating with a wave of his hand. "I truly am sorry about Morgana, by the way. She was a fine woman...but you seem to have forgotten her well enough."

_Keep quiet. Don’t give him any thing he can use against you. Don’t take his bait._ He couldn’t stop his hand from curling into a fist.

Of course, Saul continued to try and make his sale. "Malak will want the Jedi, of course. Bastila and your lady friend. What did you call her...Kairi?" He got as close as he dared to the forcefield. “I didn’t think she would be your type. I certainly didn’t think you’d be hers, either.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Do you?”

Carth didn't dignify that with an answer. How could Saul be doing this? Just haul him into that cage again—enough with these head games. One would have thought Saul would grow a sack and not resort to this bantha pile.

Saul put his hands behind his back. "But you are unimportant to him, which is why I've convinced Lord Malak not to kill you, but to hand you over to me to do as I see fit. And what I see fit to do is offer you what I did before—a place at my side."

A repeat of this? What did Saul think he was, stupid? What other kind of dirty deals was Saul going to put in the side deck this time? _Fool me once_ _…_ "Saul, forget it. What makes you think that -?"

"The practice of apprentice killing mentor is not limited to Dark Jedi." Saul shrugged casually. "I fully expect you to kill me once you are settled in, but I'll have the comfort of knowing I have a competent officer running things—which is more than I can say for my current crop of groveling idiots."

"Wait a minute, you...oh, this is rich."

Saul smiled sadly. It was almost like old times, times after they'd had a skirmish with the Mandalorians and hadn't come away with much other than their shirts. "I've never found your equal, Onasi. Not in the Republic ranks or the Sith. Men would respect my rank and my orders, but you were the one they would give their lives for. Did you know you inspired such loyalty?"

Carth was not inclined to give a response to that, even if his torture-fogged brain could think of one. What was the point to this?

Saul laughed. "Of course, you didn't. It was part of your appeal. I will tell you that I have only seen one other person inspire that kind of loyalty, and that would be Dark Lady Revan herself."

"Revan...you mean...I thought Revan was…" Okay, time to shut up before he gave Saul more ammo. “No one was ever sure.”

"With Revan, it was all about the illusion, about making people see what they _wanted_ to see. Most people, of course, thought what they wanted to see was a man. But what they really wanted was an image, a symbol. An ordinary human – man or woman – would simply not do. No, Revan stripped away all identifiers so people could see only what the symbol represented - strength, power, leadership. Wore a mask and full robes into battle, concealed everything human about her. She must have looked like a demon to the Mandalorians." Saul shook his head. "Rather too bad the Jedi appear to have destroyed her."

"Hooray for our side," Carth said.

"You don't know the half of it. The Senators would chain you; the Jedi would treat you like cattle, and you'd just as soon let them." Saul seemed almost wistful as he thought about it. "I pictured it, you know, and it would be glorious for the Sith. I take you under my wing; you would murder me and take command of the fleet. You and Lady Revan would have been unstoppable!"

"Uh, huh. And just what makes you think I'd _stay_ loyal to a Sith?"

Saul laughed. "Well, assuming Morgana was no longer a factor, I would suppose that Revan would take you as her consort. I remember Sith officers and Dark Jedi alike groveling at her feet for the honor. Malak himself wished for it. I would guess that was why she removed his jaw. Still, she never did take an official consort...at least not during the Mandalorian Wars or her reign." He gave Carth a knowing leer that made him inclined to reach up – forcefield or no – and knock it from his face. "But I happen to know she would have found _your_ company pleasing indeed."

"You think I'd go and sleep with a Dark Lord?" Carth laughed and waved it off like it was some kind of joke, which was the only thing it could have been. "Saul, you're delusional."

"I'm certain you've heard of Dustil's fate by now. He writes me often. I did some inquires—found him in a slave pit. I arranged to have him discovered by a few friends who saw his potential...Did you hear that he's been awarded his lightsaber, Carth?"

His son. That knocked Carth like a bucket of cold water. Figured Saul would be behind it. He gripped the edge of the cot hard enough to hurt. "You bastard..."

Saul threw up his hands in frustration. "Carth Onasi, listen to me, you fool! You could come out of this with a fleet to command, planets under your rule, answerable only to Lord Malak. Better, you could be reunited with your boy and have a good chance to plunge your knife in my back at the closest opportunity."

Carth gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the bedrail. No, he wasn't going to fall for more of Saul's bait. Saul continued to pace the spot outside of Carth's cell and continue his rants.

"The Republic is not loyal to you, and neither are the Jedi. Did you forget how they turned their backs during the Mandalorian War? How the Senators did not care that the raids were damaging our forces even before they decided to get bold and invade? And they turn their backs on a damn fine officer..." He stopped short of reaching into Carth's cell, setting for jabbing the air violently as he spoke. "You should be _commanding warships_ , Onasi, not running about in a smuggler's junk with the flotsam of the universe."

"I prefer their company to yours." Carth said softly.

Giving up, Saul crossed his arms and stared him down. "They're not fit company anymore, I'm afraid. The Mandalorian is dead. We've just placed him in the morgue. We'll do an autopsy, of course, and then throw his carcass out an airlock. It's what his kind has earned anyway."

His gut felt like someone had punched it, and he slumped. Canderous was dead. He never thought…

"The droids are being taken apart for scrap. The Wookiee will be sold, of course, and we can put the old man into space with the Mandalorian. As for that Twi'lek girl you have, she’ll fetch a nice price on the slave market after my guards break her in."

_Mission…No!_

"You son of a -" In his rage, Carth hurled himself against the forcefield, which sent him crashing back onto the bed. He blacked out once more.

****

Kairi was in a strange room, oddly clinical and sterile—metal and ceramic and glass, all with dull finishes. There was no one else in the room with her. She had been bound to a table, limbs stretched out uncomfortably in shackles designed for someone taller. Soreness in her arm – injections. A thick collar was around her neck.

She remembered the first half of a lecture Master Vrook gave to a class of newly chosen Padawans. _“There are drugs, neural collars, even some techni_ _ques that can suppress one’s sense of the Force. Those are often administered as a first step._ _Despite what you have heard, anyone can be broken...anyone. Double the threat of leaking vital information with the ever-present Dark Side, and a Jedi has much to fear indeed.”_

Her hands and feet itched and stung painfully, the fatigue and nerve damage taking its toll. She felt so weak and feverish she was barely able to move.

Where were her loved ones? Where were her _family_? She tried to reach out, tried to hear their presence, and nothing answered. It was the first time she truly had been without them.

_There is no comfort – there is suffering._

_There is no love—there is loss._

_There are no noble acts – only futile ones._

_There is no salvation – there is oblivion._

_All things die, even the Force…._

_She stopped that line of thought. She was in enough danger as it stood. There is no death; there is the Force._ Alive or dead, the ones she loved were still with her. Strange the bitter peace the Jedi’s mantra brought right now.

The poison would not be silenced. _There is no love—there is loss. Now that you are strapped to a torture bed, your ‘loved ones’ dead or otherwise lost to you, I must ask. What are you without your companions?_

She twisted, welcoming the pain to silence the malignant train of thought. The coldness of the metal bunk seeped onto her back and her naked thighs. Her ankles were cuffed apart and her arms, cuffed above her head. It left her entire body open and vulnerable.

_There is no comfort – there is suffering. Life is born in pain and it will end in pain. The weak, such as you, try to evade this truth, but strength is in accepting and embracing it, using the suffering to build strength._

Glancing over, she could see a monitor in the far corner. Its grainy image showed Bastila in another room, being made the toy of Dark Jedi. One of them hit her with Force Lightening, the evil-looking sparks flying from their hands and jolting through her. Another laughed. Pulling back the lightening, the man walked up to her and wrenched her arm, whispering something in her ear...Kairi did not need her empathic abilities to become ill at the sight.

_There are no noble acts – only futile ones. All the ‘good’ you wrought on Taris, the joy on Dantooine you and your ‘family’ brought. You saw the smoke and ashes that was to come. And yet, you spent time and resources on those who were already doomed. If the Outcasts survived, they will die slowly under the rubble and not the swift death ignoring their plight would have accomplished. The youngling you saved from the graul is among the dead, too small and weak to survive. The lovers from the feuding families are nothing but cooling bodies now. There is no salvation – there is oblivion._

Forcing her eyes shut, she tried to find center, tried to will herself into oblivion. If the Force kept her alive, then surely being without it could let her die. The collar's influence felt like thick ice. No matter how hard she pushed against it, trying to reach the oblivion beneath it, it would not give.

The door slid open and three Dark Jedi walked in—two apprentices and a master from the looks of them.

"It isn't often we get a live Jedi to practice on, my students," he said clinically. "So, it is important that you learn these techniques as I demonstrate them. Proper application of the correct devices you see behind you..." He gestured to the wall behind Kairi, a wall she was glad she could not see. There was also the small blessing that the collar prevented her from feeling the emotions of her tormentors.

_There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no passion...there is serenity. There is no chaos: there is harmony. There is no death: there is –_

The cool edge of a knife brushed against her cheek, not cutting yet, but close enough to let her know the blade was sharp. She heard the Dark Jedi whisper to her.

"Do you know how many of us wanted the honor of this, My Lady?"

_My Lady_...the same term of address that the Sith Master on Manaan used. Kairi struggled to stay silent, bracing for the cuts she knew would come. The cool edge traced down her neck, down past her ribs as the "interrogator" laughed. Kairi could taste blood; she was biting her cheek so hard to keep from shouting.

Lower the blade went, lazily tracing her abdomen, lower, and Kairi could feel the knife-edge stop at her leg. An involuntary whimper escaped her, and her eyes squeezed shut. An evil chuckle from him... The blade slashed her thigh and she cried out.

"Some areas of the human body have greater susceptibility to pain and take longer to heal. We are not teaching expediency here. We are teaching you an art. Just as weapons can range from crude stone tools to the finely-crafted lightsaber, so can the methods for causing and prolonging pain."

Over the next eternity, the instructor employed a variety of tools, and allowed his students to take their shots with the same implements. Force pikes were like Vulkar shock sticks on stims—concentrated jolts of painful energy. Neural whips had five settings, each exponentially more painful than the last. There were no less than twenty pressure points on the humanoid body, and proper application of pain to any of them would magnify the effect tenfold.

The pins and needles sensation of nerve damage, normally confined to fingers and feet, was all over now. Her body one single blur of pinprick jolts.

She screamed. She screamed at them, swore at them like a mercenary. She whispered codes and mantras through her gritted teeth. Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw and painful, but she could not stop the screams…

And in her pain, she called for them. Called for her Masters, now dead at Malak's hands; called out the names of her friends on the Hawk who were probably dead or undergoing the same terrible fate. She cried out from emotions Jedi were told should not be part of them…

To her shame, she found herself crying out for Carth.

Unfortunately, among the pain, she remembered the rest of Master Vrook's warning. _"The only recourse is to lie so often and with such clarity that they cannot tell truth when they hear it. Even with the Force abilities and mental exercises we train in you, Apprentices, it cannot stave off the inevitable...resist, but..." his voice had dropped, the gravely timbre of it thickening. "Do not attempt to survive. Better to join with the Force than to fall to its Darker Side."_

By the time the Force was merciful and allowed Kairi to fall unconscious, the instructor was still giving his lesson.

Carth was marched into the torture cylinder again, feeling little but broken resignation. Numb...again...that's how he felt. But he had to bide his time, wait for his opportunity. Maybe he should take Saul's offer. Why not? It wasn't like he had to live past assassinating Saul. What did he have to live for?

Bastila was already there. She looked like hell, her underclothing torn, and red marks on her arms and legs from restraints and hard fingers. She was curled in on herself, her blue eyes lifeless as she watched him. Carth shuddered as he remembered stories he had heard from other survivors of Mandalorian and Sith prisons, the violations that had no translation in Basic, and some that did. Of course, she was attempting to show the classic Jedi stoicism, but Carth had more than a small idea about what happened.

"The others..." Bastila whispered. "Have you heard about them...?"

"Dead," Carth could hardly bring himself to say it. "Dead or worse. This...this is my fault. I should have had the _Hawk_ on...should have seen this…"

"It is not your fault, Carth," Bastila said, her voice quiet and soothing. "You are a skilled pilot, and this...I'm amazed we have even lived to see this at all. How far we've come…"

"The price is as it always is—too damn high."

The door opened again, and they hauled in Kairi, dumping her in the cage. She was still unconscious, and both of them felt their hearts skip when they saw her. Several shallow (but painful) cuts were clotting, she was bruised all over, and several spots on her body were blistered and burnt. Carth let out a strangled cry of pain, and Bastila looked from Kairi's crumpled body to Carth.

Carth couldn’t quite figure out the look on her face. It was like she had finally figured out the last piece of a puzzle or understood the cards the opponent had in their pazaak deck. "Yes, I should have seen it in you. It’s been there all along hasn’t it? I should have realized it when she mentioned she could not block either of us out of her mind. If I could have stopped you both, but by the time I came into this it was too late."

"Bastila?" Maybe it was the torture talking. Interrogation drugs had a way of disconnecting one's sense from one's mouth, and despite being a Jedi, Saul's bully-boys probably gave her a nasty reminder she was a human being, capable of feeling, capable of pain.

Her voice was the same in most ways, but there was a distance from it. Again, it must have been the drugs and pain overriding that damn smug Jedi control of hers. If they survived this hell, he resolved to get both women and himself blind drunk.

Kairi stirred on the cell floor.

"Don't try to move too quickly," Bastila warned. "Admiral Karath had his guards continue to torture you even after you passed out."'

Kairi moved slowly, hugging her knees as she sat, shifting to mitigate the pain as much as possible.

"They tortured all of us, though you got the worst of it by far," Carth said. "Saul wanted them to make us suffer. He's become some kind of sadistic monster."

"That…isn't true, Carth," she said weakly. "And he...he would have done that to us… to you anyway. I couldn't sense...but I saw it in his eyes. He liked watching us suffer," her voice was barely past a whisper, and rough from her cries of pain. “It made him feel powerful for a change.”

"I've known 'Admiral' Karath a long time and I think you're right," Carth reluctantly admitted. "The interrogation was a sham. Saul was toying with us. He didn't care what we told him. It was just an excuse to torture us before Malak arrived."

Bastila seemed to slowly return to her old self. "The Dark Side has perverted him, Carth. Once you start down the tainted path, it leads you ever further into the depths of evil. I fear he is forever lost."

Kairi said. Wincing in pain, she gently eased herself into a different position. " _Bastila, I don't think now is the time for this..._ You said once that no one is past redemption. Some just come very close…"

"I suppose you are correct. Sometimes it is easy to lose sight of that hope in the face of such unbridled cruelty, but you speak the truth," she shuddered and hung her head. "I suppose I am taking the news of Dantooine's destruction quite hard. First Taris, now the academy. Is there no end to the killing?"

"Perhaps he was lying. I couldn't sense him during the interrogation."

Bastila shook her head. "You also had a triple dose of whatever drug cocktail I got. I would like to believe that he was lying to us, but I was better able to sense his thoughts. Even as he said the words, I knew they were true. The Academy is gone. We should have felt a disturbance in the Force when the attack came. The fact that we did not is a bad sign. I fear the Dark Side is growing stronger, casting shadows our vision cannot pierce. I can only hope that some of the Jedi escaped - Vrook, Vandar, Zhar...I cannot imagine all of them being gone. In any case, we have lost our one place of refuge in the galaxy."

"And we've failed two worlds now..." Kairi said hollowly. "There are no noble acts - only futile ones."

"None of this will matter if we don't get out of this prison before Saul gets back," Carth interjected. "He mentioned Lord Malak was on his way. I think Saul left to prepare for his arrival...and to report the results of our interrogation."

"It was fortunate you were able to resist the admiral's questioning, Kairi. The fate of the galaxy could be changed by revealing the slightest piece of vital information."

Kairi was past hearing it. She didn't so much as move position.

Bastila gasped. "Did you feel that, Kairi? A disturbance in the Force. The admiral has sent his message. Malak is coming. The Dark Lord knows we are here now."

"I guess it's time to hope for a miracle, then," Carth said.


	3. Rescue

**Chapter 3**   
**Rescue**

The medical technician was noticeably bored as he made his notes and dictated them to a small camera droid above his left shoulder.

"Subject is Mandalorian...male...approximate age of fifty to fifty-five standard years. Height...one point nine five meters...cause of death appears to be third degree burn trauma to the torso..." the technician checked the pad again. The Mandalorian had been placed in the morgue hours ago, but there was no trace of the burns aside from some patches of reddened flesh across the man's broad shoulders.

"Surface examination completed zero three-hundred hours. Beginning first level dissection..." He picked up the laser scalpel and hovered over the Mandalorian's torso to make the first cut…

Only to have the "dead" man's hand fly up and seize his throat, crushing the life from him.

Canderous sat up on the morgue table and threw the technician against the wall, his shattered neck drooping low. The droid followed, hurled into the wall like a child's toy in the middle of a tantrum.

Stalking to a barrel on the opposite side of the morgue, Canderous found his clothing and his trusty cannon waiting for him. Time for the fun to start.

Two guards were on duty, watching the cell.

"...And so the old Twi'lek says to his son, 'If she wasn't good enough to bed her own kin, she's no good to you!'"

The other one laughed hard. Mission balled her hands into fists and bided her time, but if she heard one more damn Twi'lek joke...

The first guard looked in and commented to the other. "So, which of us gets her first?" he asked.

Mission sourly sat near the forcefield, trying to look as harmless as possible and trying not to think of what those scummy guards were planning. It wasn't the first time she had to listen to captors plan like this. But this time wasn't the Vulkar hideout, and Big Z wasn't right around the corner making grenades to blast her out. They wore their keycards dangling from their hips, just barely out of reach. If it weren't for the forcefield...

"Ever the pervert, aren't you, Tarrant? Karath said she'll be interrogated first." Guard Two was sounding a little weary of his teammate's suggestions.

"Heard a rumor that we netted a Jedi with this zoo. At least we get something useful." Guard One looked in again. "You really think the commander would care if..."

Guard Two looked sharply at his teammate. "I'm not about to take my life in my hands."

"Spoilsport," he said. "I need to use the head. Be back in a couple."

"Yeah, not like the little missy's going anywhere." She heard the guard's heavy boots clank down the hall, and the door swish shut. One guard in sight.

_Now or never..._

"Hey, scumbag," she called.

"I haven't got all day to waste on you, girlie," he said, raising his rifle.

"What? Can't get it up yourself?"

The guard punched the forcefield controls and stormed into the cell, pushing her towards the back of the cell. Dangerous...way dangerous...maybe she should have kept her mouth shut... _No. Gotta be brave. Carth, Kairi, and Zaalbar need help._

"Quit crowding me. Sheesh! I've met Gammoreans who didn't smell as bad as you Sith!" She shouted at him.

She swore she could see him smile smugly under the helmet. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you? But you're only making things worse for yourself." He lowered his rifle to make a grab for her chest.

Agilely, she squirmed out of his reach. "How come every time you open your mouth the smell of rancor dung comes out?"

He smacked her to the floor with the butt of his rifle. "You're damn lucky Admiral Karath wants you interrogated first."

_Keep him distracted._ "Who designed those Sith uniforms anyway? A blind Rodian with a sick sense of humor?" He wasn't even looking at her hands – good.

The Sith chuckled at that. "That's funny. You should tell that to the torturer when he comes to deal with you."

"What? You're...you're going to torture me?" The horror was only half-faked. But right now, her friends...She wondered if Carth was gonna be okay. Kairi and Bastila were Jedi, and Jedi had powers she didn't quite understand that might help them...

"No snappy comebacks this time? The thought of torture scares you, huh?" The Sith guard continued mocking. "Well, it should. The Sith have ways to inflict pain you can't even imagine."

_I'm from Lower Taris. I don't have to imagine._

"It may be a few hours before your torture begins; we're busy interrogating your friends right now." He marched back across the threshold and activated the outside panel. "Hey, I know! You could use this time to think up witty ways to beg for mercy. I'll go and let you think of that for a while."

She heard him storm off, probably to harass someone else. No one looking. Perfect!

"Or I could just use the keycard I lifted from your pocket to slice into the security panel and get myself out of this cell..." she muttered. Passing it by the slot, the forcefield shimmered away.

"Piece of cake!" she said. "I wonder when people will stop underestimating me?"

***

Numbers and letters that should have been wiping and repatterning the memory core instead met with a push back as the Sith droid accessed T3-M4. The programming droid did not know what to make of it and redoubled its efforts. Punching in, there was something coming back through the data stream even as it tried to access the core memory of the apparently harmless astromech.

_Warning! Warning! Code corrupted!_

The re-patterning droid sailed a short distance away and gave up, collapsing in an irreparable heap as its own circuitry ionized. The cheery little astromech gave a whistle that sounded close to an apology and rolled over to the droid that had been next to go to the re-patterning. Punching in a code so elaborate that only a droid could have remembered it, the red-plated humanoid-shaped droid jerked upright, its golden eyes and tinny voice coming to life.

"Diagnostic: Running...Complete. Statement: I am in proper functioning order. It is now time for us to retrieve the master and render inoperable any forces that stand in our way. " Two flame-throwers jutted from HK-47's shoulders. T3-M4 followed suit by pulling open the panels that concealed the built-in blasters.

"Statement: Not bad for an astromech. But you have much to learn in the way of killing organics. Allow this to be a lesson…"

***

It worked just as planned. They had only put one guard on duty, no doubt considering him just a weak and helpless old man.

Old man, yes. Weak and helpless...not by a longshot.

"Guard I need to speak with you," Jolee kept his voice low and quiet, needing to pull off the part as well as focus his energy for the trick he would do next.

"What do you want, old man?" shouted the guard. "You better not be trying to cause any trouble, or you'll be sorry!"

Jolee flicked his hand and added the Force to his voice. "This cell is too drafty. My old bones may catch a chill. We don't want that. You better let me out "

It was a struggle not to laugh at how well it worked. Never trust low-ranking guards to be all that bright. Whether it was a pirate vessel or military ship, commanders tended to pick guards based on strong muscles, good aim, and an incurious mind. Guards who didn’t ask questions didn’t learn things they weren’t supposed to or think of ways to help themselves to whatever they were watching. It also meant a reasonably good chance that the “dumb muscle” stereotype applied.

"Uh...yes. It's too drafty in there. Your old bones may catch a chill. We don't want that. Get out of there."

The purple forcefield dropped and Jolee strolled right out of it. He still had to concentrate enough to pull off the next part of the trick.

"You shouldn't have let me out, sonny. That was wrong. Admiral Karath won't be happy with you disobeying his orders."

Underneath that faceless armor, Jolee could almost see the guard's eyes glazing over. "Yes...what I did was wrong. Very wrong."

"You deserve to be locked up for disobeying orders."

The Sith guard turned from Jolee, walking right into the cell. Jolee removed a couple key items from the guard on the way in. "Yes, I deserve to be locked up for disobeying orders." Once inside, Jolee pressed the cell's locking mechanism, and broke his hold over the weak-minded guard.

"Huh, what...what just happened? What am I doing in here? Damn you, old man! I'll kill you if I ever get out of here."

Jolee snickered, showing off the comlink, blaster, and cellblock key he stole. "Then I'll be sure to never let you out." With a jaunty wave, he walked down the hallway. "Goodbye, sonny!"

She may have sneaked out of her cell, but she wasn't out of trouble yet. Years of avoiding Vulkars and rakghouls in the underbelly of Taris had honed her ability not to be seen, but this was the biggest challenge yet.

She dashed past the corridor and flattened herself against a bank of lockers, hardly daring to breathe. It was a maze in here – dead-end corridors and half the cells were empty. She heard the faint clank of boots coming this way and balled her fists. In them, she had the only weapon she could obtain - the belt from her pants. From long ago, she remembered the Bek base, Zaerdra teaching her how anything could be used as a weapon, and how young Twi'lek girls in particular needed to learn how to fight and be prepared to die.

_There are always fates worse than death, young one. Gadon is a good human man, but men like him are often the exception…_

She twisted the leather around her fists and pulled it tight. The nearby door opened and the guard coming out of it she recognized. He was the _slime_ that wanted to have his fun with her. And somewhere on this deck, those Hutt-spawned Sith were doing who-knew what to all her friends. Carth also said that this was the ship that led the bombing of Taris.

She waited…

As he passed by, she cried out and leapt onto his back, knocking the wind out of him, and sending him stomach-first to the deck. The helmet clattered uselessly a meter away, and when he tried to get up, Mission took her shot. She looped the belt around his neck and pulled with all her strength. He started to flop like an eel pulled from a brine tank. Tightening her legs around his waist, she gritted her teeth and held on. Leaning on him with all of her body weight to not let go. It seemed a small eternity later when he finally was stilled.

Mission was shaky when she rose and kicked the Sith over with her foot. Unseeing, glazed eyes stared back at her, and she wanted to be sick. Sure, she had to defend herself before—Vulkars intent on capture, other scum intent on worse, and charging rakghouls—but somehow this was different—a lot more ugly and...personal.

Clanking boots...coming this way...She dragged the corpse back towards the equipment locker and made short work of the door's lock. By now, she had plenty of practice with Sith security systems. It wasn't the most subtle lock-pick, but she didn't have time for it.

She swore. She didn't get the guy's rifle and helmet. She looked around desperately for anything she could use…

Jackpot! This was the contraband locker! She didn't have much time, but on one of the shelves was just the thing she needed. Maybe those Jedi had a point about the Force working wonders. She snatched the stealth belt and had just managed to put it on when the door opened.

"It's Tarrant. Looks like the little shutta got the drop on him."

"Told the bloody fool that a little fun wasn't worth it. C'mon, she can't have gone far…"

That's when the klaxons went off and Mission heard fighting in the distance. Two blaster shots whizzed through the air and struck the guards down before they even had time to reach for their guns.

He may have been a wrinkled, old human guy, but he was the best sight she could ask for. Jolee was still in his nightshirt and bare feet, carrying a Sith guard pistol. The sight was almost hilarious.

"Come out, Mission. You may have been invisible to them, but not to an old Jedi."

The stealth field shimmered as it dissipated, and Mission ran up to the dead guards, grabbing a sniper rifle.

"Whew. Talk about close call. I'm glad Karath's standing orders were to interrogate me first, _then_ hand me over as a toy for those scummy guards," she said. "Fortunately, the guy guarding my cell never got around to escorting me to my date with either."

The pair started running aft, towards the high-security wing. "Looks like Canderous and the droids have got their attention. Time to give them something else to be cranky about."

Mission grinned. "Trouble's the specialty!"

As they were just about to leave the cellblock, a voice shouted to them in Rodian.

_< <"You not Sith! Help me out of this cell and I help you!">>_

A young Rodian man (more a scrawny adolescent) had run up to the front of his cell, waving frantically at them. << _"Evil Sith unjustly capture me and my ship! They think we spies. They torture all the crew, trying to get information, but we not have any information to give. But Sith not care." >>_

"Where's the rest of the crew?" asked Jolee. "We need as many friends as we can right now."

_< <"Me the last. They "interrogate" captain until his mind snap. Then they grab first mate, then navigator...they all crazy now. Minds gone. So sad, but they nothing but animals now. Lowest rank on the ship, but now me the only one left. Soon, Sith come to interrogate, too. But not know anything. Me just...uh...me just trader in rare goods.">>_

Mission raised an eyebrow as she started to slice the cell. "Rare goods, huh?”

He shrugged _. "Me bring things to people in need. People who need things they can't get normally."_

"Smuggler. Got it," Jolee commented.

_"Such unnice language!"_ he said as the forcefield fell. _"Me helps people and people helps me. You helps me, and I helps you."_ He reached in the inside of his tunic. _"Me have something special. Something you can use on ship. Something VERY powerful...an ICE breaker. It gives you access to computers on this ship and override Sith Security programs."_

Mission's eyes grew big as she snatched it from him. "How did you manage to keep THAT hidden?"

The Rodian got awfully coy _"Sith...um...Sith not very thorough in search."_

Mission almost dropped it but settled for wincing and gingerly stuffing it into her pocket. Jolee just shrugged. "Whatever works. Done that a few times myself."

The Rodian grinned _. "Ha ha! Me always knows good opportunity when me sees it. You go fight guards, me go and hide now, wait for chance to get to ship."_

"Well, may the Force be with you," Jolee said dryly. "Help yourself to a gun before you leave."

As the Rodian vanished down the corridor, Mission turned to Jolee. "That just gave me a VERY nasty idea…"

Juhani hid in one of the many contraband compartments on the ship, using the Force and the natural stealth abilities of the Cathar people. The hardest part had been the waiting, biding her time until the middle of night shift—several hours after capture. Oh, how hard it was, though!

She had felt Kairi and Bastila being cut off from the Force, which made it impossible to know whether her dear sisters-in-arms had survived. When the alarms went off, she knew her part in the plan, throwing open the docking ramp and catching the bored soldiers unprepared.

"I will be your doom!" she howled, rushing at them like a demon, twin lightsabers blazing. Shoving one group to the side with a bolt of Force-energy, Juhani charged the other half, striking swiftly and pitilessly.

***

"Admiral Karath!" babbled a lieutenant. "Escape attempt on detention level. I'm locking down the bridge and taking all precautionary measures."

"There shouldn't be a need, lieutenant," Saul said. "I'd have expected Onasi and his friends to make a run for it by now. The guards can put down three fugitives easily enough."

"No, sir."

"You do not tell me…"

"Sir, it's all over the deck. ALL the prisoners are loose. Riot suppression...Riot suppression has failed, sir. I've been locked out of it."

"Countermand!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir!" cried another officer. "Reports from the docking bay before communications went dead. There's an intruder sir...A Jedi."

"Damn it. How could this happen?" As soon as he said it, he knew the answer—look at the people he had captured. If anyone could make a functional and deadly crew out of what his guards had pulled off the boat…

"Never mind—override the lockout on the riot suppression systems. Lock down the decks. And summon the troops to deal with this insurrection—NOW!"

***

HK-47 was having more fun than any droid had right to. Flames shot from the twin cannons on his body, and his metallic voice laughed chillingly.

"Query: Too hot for you?" This as he unleashed his flamethrower, cooking three unlucky troopers alive in their metal uniforms.

Picking up a fallen blaster rifle, he shot with the unnerving accuracy only a droid could manage. Laying cover fire, he would scoop up grenades, loading them into compartments in his arms and chest cavities. All it would take is a simple slide of the wrist to dispense the deadly projectiles.

T3-M4 was proving a rather decent combatant, too, but the little utility droid had as much deviousness as his compatriot had homicidal mania. While HK-47 mowed down the soldiers and technicians in the area of the droid bay, T3-M4 set to work repairing and activating the three deadly assault droids, powering all their systems to maximum efficiency and sending them on their way to distract any backup that might be on its way via the lifts.

Sith assault droids looked and walked like metal predators, twice as big as a man and armed with heavy blasters that could punch holes in durasteel. Their glowing shields were a rival for most starships. One was bad enough, three would be sufficient to cause incredible amounts of trouble.

With a trail of bodies and burns in their wake, the droids battled aft, passing the medical facility. Canderous was laughing and shooting up the place, painting the walls with blood and bits of vital organs. Passing by the remains of it, HK-47 jerked his metal head around in approval. "Statement: I have always admired the artistry and brutality inherent to your people."

Canderous looked away from the carnage he created to examine the bloody and burnt handiwork of the assassin droid. "Not bad yourself, tin can. Now, the high security wing is this way. We should rendezvous with…"

"Hi, Canderous." Mission ran up to him. "I've got the computer systems locked up, but I dunno for how long."

"Good work, street rat," Canderous said. He nodded to Jolee. "And good to see you, too, old man. Now, the high security wing is far aft. Come, we have to get them all out of there."

They'd tortured Zaalbar, hair ripped out, burns from force pikes and other pain-inductors. A technician and two uniformed guards had been quietly charting the results when they charged in.

The technician saw it coming first. Two shots, and he was lying on the floor with a sucking chest wound. One of the soldiers tried to reach for his pistol, but Canderous had the drop on him, firing away until his head was vaporized, just an oozing, half-cauterized neck spilling blood on the floor. Dodging the blast from the second's pistol, Mission shot her in the gut, knocking her dead to the floor.

Jolee ran ahead and opened the cage, sending Zaalbar tumbling out. The elderly Jedi helped him to his feet. "Are you hurt badly, Zaalbar?"

_< <"They sought to weaken, not to kill. I am in pain, but not badly injured. Come, they have put Bacca's Blade into that locker. Fetch it for me if you can.">>_

Mission nodded and jogged over to the far end of the room, slicing the lock.

"Good," said Canderous. "We may need a little of that Wookiee strength in the time ahead."

_< <"I know where they have taken Kairi, Carth and Bastila. They could not see me, but I could see them...and the things the dishonored man did to them.">>_

"Take us, then," Canderous said.

Mission gave Zaalbar the sword and the party charged behind him as he hurried down the corridors and into the end of the hall. Mission used a passcard she pulled off the Sith she had killed in the torture rooms and opened the doors. T3-M4 helped her slice the controls. Suddenly, there was a great commotion from behind the heavy doors.

The only cell they were fixed on was the one in front of them. It slid open, and Mission cried out in joy, running towards them. Carth was the first one to reach her, and she threw her arms around him, babbling into the fabric of his undershirt.

"You're okay...I was so scared that I'd never see you again. Don't die on me, promise?"

"Did..." He could barely speak it. Saul's words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. "They didn’t hurt you, Mission? Did they…"

Mission looked up and shook her head. By then, Kairi had reached their side, and Mission hugged her, as well, undoing the Force-nullifying collar around her neck. Jolee undid the one on Bastila. The pair of them set to work doing Force-healing on Kairi.

Carth took two steps forward and looked up at Canderous. "Your idea, wasn't it?"

"Some of it," Canderous admitted. He nodded to Kairi. "Some of it hers, as well."

Carth nodded in understanding. "You keep getting us out of jams like this, and there might be a place in the Republic army for you, even if you are a Mandalorian."

Canderous sniffed with amusement. "When Tatooine is flooded, brother. Now, where is your gear?"

Carth thought a moment. "If I remember the layout of this ship, our equipment should be in a storage chamber just through the north doors. After we grab our stuff, we just need to get to the main bridge controls. The bridge is the only place we can open the docking gates of the hangar where they've got the _Ebon Hawk_. We have to open those gates before we can fly out of here."

"We better get moving," said Bastila. "I can feel the darkness of Malak's presence approaching, and I don't want to be here when he arrives. None of us is a match for the Sith Lord."

"We'll need a plan," said Kairi. "Knowing you all, there's quite the commotion going on. We'll have to take advantage of it. Surprise and secrecy will serve us best. A small group might have a better chance of sneaking onto the bridge undetected in this chaos."

"Count me in, then. I've got a score to settle with the Admiral before we get off this ship, and I have a feeling I'm going to find him on the Leviathan's bridge," Carth said.

Kairi was worried for him "Careful, Carth. Yes, we’ll need your knowledge of the ship, but there's more at stake here than revenge."

"That's true, Carth. You can come, but don't let your hatred of Saul Karath jeopardize our true mission: getting the _Ebon Hawk_ safely off the _Leviathan_." Bastila glanced over at Kairi.

"Bastila, go with them. Malak’s after you. If Carth and I don’t make it -”

Bastila shook her head. “No. I’m coming with you. We’re both Malak’s targets. As powerful as you are, you are not at full strength. The others can find their way on their own, but we might run into trouble. My place is with you."

Kairi wanted to argue, but there wasn’t time. She was still fighting through the pain and she could feel Bastila working through their link, dulling the pins and needles sensation in her fingers. "The three of us will get our equipment and make our way to the bridge. The rest of you head down to the docking hangar. You'll have to find a way to deal with the guards,"

Canderous grinned. "Don't you worry about that. I know how to deal with the guards...Juhani is down there clearing a path for us right now."

Kairi couldn't help a smile. "Good. Get to the Equipment room, grab what you need, and get going."

"We'll meet you there as soon as we get those docking bay doors open. Just make sure the _Hawk_ is ready to fly free when we get there,"

Bastila nodded to the remaining party. "And may the Force be with us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I couldn't decide which one I liked best, so why not ALL! We got a crew of badasses - let 'em be badass. And I had the Spaceballs theme by the Spinners and the "All Your Base Are Belong to Us" techno song on repeat while doing the final edit.


	4. Shatter

Chapter 4  
Shatter

Making their way off the prison deck was relatively easy. With the riot control systems out of joint and all the cells open, the guards that hadn't been shot down by the crew's rampage were now dealing with creatures from dozens of races and worlds—many of them broken and insane by Sith. The pain and the rage lanced through shields that had already taken a beating from the Dark Jedi's tortures earlier. Force-healing could block out the pain, but it couldn’t cure entirely. The drugs and other measures they had used to weaken her sense of the Force hadn’t worn off. Her fingers still tingled painfully, and her feet felt like they were walking on gravel. She would be fighting fatigue as much as much as she would have to fight the enemy. 

Jamming the lockout on the lift, the three of them piled inside, going against the stream of rioting prisoners who were trying to shove the Sith back the other direction.

It was a short, tense ride to the command deck. Over the comlinks they had retrieved from their belongings, Canderous paged them.

_"This is Canderous. We're at the_ _Ebon Hawk._ _Like we figured, it's under heavy guard. But don't worry. We'll find a way to take care of them. Juhani has some of them distracted. We can take care of the rest."_

The signal cut. Carth actually chuckled. "And knowing Canderous, it's going to be spectacular."

Juhani had waited for the alarms to sound, and the hangar bay was soon full of guards. Ah, the struggle not to give in to her fear, her rage. Her blood burned as she battled, slicing and killing cleanly. It was almost like dancing, the way of battles.

She blocked an incoming blaster shot, sending it back to its origin and knocking down the unlucky Sith trooper. A wave of her hand, and the reinforcements rushing through the door were scattered like dry leaves in the wind.

She could not hold out forever, but she would try. Throwing off the three guards that had tried to get near, she was catching her breath when a cold shiver ran through her. She slowly turned to face them.

Dark Jedi—three to her one. At least one was a master, and two were apprentices. The master held a double-bladed saber of Sith red-orange to her ruby saber and shoto.

She held her blades at an aggressive neutral. "Greetings," she said.

"You've fire and anger in you, Cathar. It's too bad you would not cross to our side. You must be loyal to the dark-haired human...the one I had the chance to break…"

Juhani narrowed her gold eyes. No, do not submit to provocation. She would wait for their attack...To attack in anger would be to fall into their trap, to allow her will and discipline to crumble.

"She screamed, you know," the Master taunted. "I don't think there's going to be much of her left, especially with the admiral having another go at her."

Juhani made no move.

"You'll join that human soon enough, Jedi..." the master made a signal, and the whole lot ran for her.

Fending them off with her lightsaber was difficult at best, and she barely escaped fatal wounds on more than one occasion. Clambering over cartons and metal crates, she tried to find a vantage point where she could launch into a better attack. One of the apprentices was dead now—her head rolling under a workbench as her body crumpled at the base of the storage pile.

When Juhani could climb no more, she leapt, controlling her fall to tackle one of the Dark Jedi and snap his neck. She was down to the Master, but his Force powers were making her movements slow and sluggish, her reactions like a Tarisian drunk. The master conjured up a handful of bright blue sparks. Force lightening—pure Dark Side fury turned to a weapon.

Behind him, a fuel tank had taken damage, the flammable liquid draining in a slow river from a crack in its side, pooling around the Dark Master's feet.

He reached out his hand to strike Juhani down when he heard a shout behind him. "I wouldn't do that."

The Sith master turned around and Juhani felt her heart soar. Canderous! Elements of Air and Fire, she never thought she would welcome the sight of a Mandalorian! Canderous smiled wickedly and signaled to Juhani. Juhani prepared to make her leap.

A second later, the Dark Jedi started to charge Candrerous, who stepped out of the way, leaving him facing HK-47. The droid let out a tinny, disturbing chuckle, and engaged the flame-thrower.

WOOSH!

It wasn't more than a second, but the whole hangar bay was in flames! Juhani narrowly got out of the way of the fire, but the Dark Jedi master's moment of distraction proved fatal. Between the fuel on his tunic and the puddle at his feet, he was immolated before the fire suppression systems had a chance to kick in. Noxious white fumes hissed out from jets in the walls and ceiling, depriving the fire of the necessary oxygen.

Mission and Zaalbar went first, having nothing to enhance their resistance to the dwindling amount of breathable air. Slamming the ramp controls down on the _Hawk,_ they stumbled aboard, but ran out of wind soon after. Canderous and the Jedi followed, and the droids brought up the rear, slamming the ramp controls and engaging the life support systems before the organic crewmembers blacked out.

"They'll restore the air in here as soon as the fire's out," Canderous said. "Jolee, you said you were a pilot. We may need one since I don't know..." Canderous found himself unable to say the words.

Jolee just nodded and swung into the pilot's seat, warming up the controls.

***

The command deck was free from the chaos and the rioting that had overtaken the prison deck, but it was still a nasty fight. More than once, Bastila or Kairi would have to pull on the Force to heal themselves or him. And he had used kolto bandages he'd stolen from the medical bay more than once himself.

Right now, Carth's vision was a red haze. He would get to that bridge. He would kill Saul, in the slowest, nastiest way he would be able to manage. The pain did not matter. He had enough of that back in detention block.

Sith troopers? A volley of blaster fire and down they'd go.

Dark Jedi? Well, there were a couple, but Kairi and Bastila fought like they were possessed. A short clash of sabers, and they were lying on the floor, embracing the void.

They had some help, too. T3-M4's sabotage drove the security droids on the ship berserk. One of them was a prototype assault droid that had wiped out most of the troops that had been in the Command Deck barracks, catching them unaware as they slept. All of this helped speed them through the command deck and up to the bridge.

The _Leviathan's_ bridge, modified from its former Republic design, was designed to convey official superiority as much as it was a command center. The vaguely triangular room had vast transparasteel windows that allowed a sweeping view of the stars outside. The center walkway led up to a dais for a commander to have full view of a battle. A command chair and terminal were off to one side. Junior officers and technicians worked in trenches on either side of the command walkway.

Saul was waiting for them with a handful of his best troops and two Dark Jedi honor guards, and looked upon Carth with frustration, and anger, but also an unmistakable pride. "Very resourceful, Onasi. You learned your lessons well from me."

Carth raised his blaster and glowered at his former mentor. He was ready. Pain, fear, grief, rage, loss...it all wrapped around him like bek’kar armor; heavy and cold, protective. "The only thing you taught me was betrayal and death, Saul."

Saul gaped at him. "Don't be a fool. I am giving you and your companions a chance to surrender: a chance to live. Darth Malak himself is on his way. He will be arriving at any moment!"

"He speaks the truth, Carth," Bastila admitted shakily. "I can feel the Dark Lord's presence approaching."

"Malak will destroy you, but if you throw down your weapons now, I will ask my master to be merciful," Saul warned.

A chilling whir cut through the still air of the bridge as Carth disabled the blaster's safety. "I've seen enough of Sith mercy."

"You always did like to do things the hard way." Saul shook his head in exaggerated resignation. "Lord Malak would have preferred live prisoners, but corpses will have to do."

The women had their hands full with the Sith troopers and honor guard, but Saul was going to be his alone. This was it! This was the revenge he had craved for so long, years of anguish and helplessness, grief and fear didn’t need to be tamed any longer. With the last long breath before the first shot was fired, he let it all wrap around him, let everything else fall away.

Saul was armed, too. An Sith assassin's pistol perfect weapon for him, Carth thought. Precise, designed for sneak attacks, but no good against armor, including the combat suit and Echani shield he grabbed from contraband. Saul’s shots did nothing but sting painfully and enrage him further. They chased each other from the center of the fracas and into the technician's pit. All he knew was how badly he wanted this Sith admiral's neck. Carth's shot struck Saul in the right hand, forcing him to drop his pistol. Roaring with anger and pain, he leapt at Saul, grabbing him by the uniform and tossing him about, slamming him into panels and bulkheads, resorting not to blasters, but feral rage.

When Saul tried fighting back, Carth struck hard. He blocked a punch coming for his face and retaliated by kicking Saul viciously in the gut. Saul was coughing up blood, a sight that spurred on Carth's cruelty, but made a distant part of him horrified.

"So, how are my threats now, you son-of-a-Hutt? Not so empty anymore?" He landed another punch on Saul's face and heard the crack of bone.

His? Saul's? Not like he gave a damn.

Carth threw Saul again, sending him to land on a terminal and roll into a chair. Shakily getting his feet, Saul tried to back away, but was no match for fury personified. Carth lost count of the blows landed – both on him and from him. All became hate and rage, and wanting to strike over and over…

Slam! Saul was shoved against the wall again then thrown to the deck. Carth pushed one knee into Saul’s chest and grabbed hold of his neck, slowly tightening the grip, making Saul gag and turn bluish.

_Afraid of me, Saul? Good. How do you like that?_ "Now, you know what it's like. Now you know what they felt on Taris...what you did to all those people on Telos..." With one hand still crushing the life from Saul, Carth drew his blaster with the other and put it to Saul's forehead.

"Carth, no!"

Kairi. She was standing at the top of the stairs leading to the technician's pit. Her eyes were wide with horror, and the green blade of her lightsaber was retreating into its hilt.

That horrified part of Carth realized that she and Bastila must have finished mopping up the rest of the guards, and that she had sensed the unguarded savagery he felt. In that moment's hesitation, he slackened the grip on Saul's neck.

"Carth...Carth…"

Bastila had joined Kairi on the stairs. "The Admiral is still alive?"

Not for long if Carth had any say in the matter. The blaster warmed up, whining softly. "It's time to finish this."

Kairi was trying to close the gap, but even she had to know that she wouldn't be able to stop him. "No, please...don't do this. You know you already know it's going to destroy you."

"I'm already dead!" he roared. "Don't you understand what this man has done to my life? Do you know the pain he's brought me?"

Bastila was now pleading. "Killing him will not ease the pain, Carth. Do not become what you despise."

"It's over," Kairi said gently. “He’s dying. I know that pull, that whisper. I know how good it sounds right now…”

“Shut up – all of you!”

Saul didn't have long. Carth could see that now. Covered in blood, eyes glazing over...he was broken, dying. With the last of his breath, he was trying to speak.

"Carth...must tell you...must tell you something..." His voice was a thin rattle, punctuated by bloody coughs. He leaned close enough to Carth's ear to whisper.

And he would remember those words for the rest of his life.

"You didn't know. Did you?" Saul laughed weakly. "Remember my dying words. Remember them whenever...whenever you look at those you thought were your friends!"

With those last words, Saul stopped breathing, his eyes glazed over and sightless. Carth let go of Saul's neck. Raising his blaster, he violently emptied the clip into Saul's broken body. The head exploded, the torso a gutted, flaming ruin. Dropping the empty clip, he reloaded his weapon, still looking for an outlet for his anger.

He was distantly aware of Kairi's shriek behind him, breaking through the anger. He shakily looked at his "handiwork," then slowly turned his blaster on the two Jedi standing on the deck above him.

Bastila saw the look in Carth's eyes as he turned away from Saul's corpse. It didn't take Jedi powers to know, only to confirm. Carth got the truth he was looking for—the terrible whole of it.

"He said...it can't be true, can it?"

Kairi must have sensed something terribly wrong, but she would not be able to comprehend with her capacity to understand only emotions. Bastila quickly put herself between them, fearing the worst. "Please, Carth. Whatever he said, he was just trying to hurt you."

Carth ignored her. "Bastila, it is true, isn't it? And...and you knew! You and the whole Jedi Council. You knew the whole time!"

_Another vote to damn you, Admiral Karath. He was never supposed to know._ "Carth, it's not what you think. We had no other choice! Please, you don't understand."

Carth glowered at her. "So, make me understand!"

"Not here, Carth," pleaded Bastila. "Please, there's no time. Malak is coming. This isn't the place. Please, Carth, I'm asking you to trust me for just a little while longer."

Kairi took his arm. Carth shrugged it off, an action that puzzled her. He seemed to be weighing his options and seeing no better alternative.

"I'll trust you, Bastila,” His voice was far too calm. “But as soon as we're off the ship, I expect some answers."

"I'll override the docking bay security," Kairi said. "I'm not as good at this as Mission, so it will take me a bit. Guard the door in the meantime."

Bastila didn't hesitate, rushing up to the bridge's blast doors, and powering on her lightsaber, the double yellow blades humming with their quiet power. Carth stood his position, his eyes straying from Saul's corpse to Kairi and back over to Bastila. Settling his internal debate, he ran up to Bastila, blasters ready.

Kairi was hard at work on the controls—distracted.

Carth dropped his voice so that she couldn't hear. "How can you trust her?"

"You've done quite well at it up until a few minutes ago," Bastila replied curtly.

"Before that, I hadn't known what she was!"

"And if you had?"

Carth let out a rude curse. "I... I certainly wouldn’t...How the hell can you Jedi even _think_ -"

"You don't know the whole story, and we've not the time for it. Once we're on the _Hawk_ , I'll explain, but not here and not now."

"She's endangering the Republic."

"Her knowledge might be the only thing that can _save_ the Republic. That's why we took the chance. As for endangering the Republic, you're the one who's been doing that."

"Hey, I had my shot at Saul and took it."

"Not what I'm talking about." Her eyes narrowed. "You've presented a dangerous temptation that could undo everything!"

"Me? What in the -"

Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Remember what I told you?"

"Done it!" Kairi hit the last set of codes on the panel and rushed towards the blast doors, powering up her saber. "We're still going to have to fight our way to the hanger bay."

It was like a nest of vipers. Sith troops, in their all-covering armor, rushed forward to meet them only to fall by lightsaber or Carth's pair of blasters. It all blurred as they hurried through the twisted, dark corridors. Kairi had to slice the elevator controls to get them to the hanger deck. Through it all, no one said a word; fear and suspicion, tension thick as durasteel. 

Kairi sensed their unease, but there wasn't time to ask why. She was concentrating on fending off the ache in her hands and feet – her entire lower legs were almost numb. She flexed her fingers to try and keep sensation in them, fending off fatigue. All she knew was that something Saul said with his final words had been enough to send Carth careening out of control like a swoop crashing into rocks. Kairi could feel Bastila’s own fear and unease rolling off her, a sharp staccato feeling.

_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no chaos, only harmony._ Whatever it was, they would have to survive long enough for the explanation.

The door slid open, and another battle. They could see the maze of blast doors and hanger corridors before them. It wouldn't be long now. Guards cried out and fell with the sizzle of sabers and the whine of blasters. Smoke, sweat, ozone, and blood made the air reek. Finally, they managed to reach the lift to the hangar level.

The worst was to come.

Kairi took point, concentrating on calm to try and block out the feeling of death. Just what had Saul told Carth, anyway? That sadist could have said anything to feed Carth's fears and shatter the frail trust he had just started to restore. And the matter of his confusing words during interrogation. History? Flexible loyalties? Kairi felt her guts knot and cursed her lost memory all the more. She knew she had more of a past then the file stated, but the small and unexplained happenings on their journey were adding up in a terrible way, even if they still made so little sense.

The blast corridors were even more claustrophobia-inducing. Red lights above, and dim white lights along the walls provided uneven shadows. The floor was little more than grating, with impenetrable darkness below. The trio stepped carefully, listening for enemies.

Their comlinks broke the silence. "It's Canderous. We took care of the guards. We're inside the _Ebon Hawk_ and all systems are go. As soon as you guys join us, we can get out of here."

"Acknowledged," Bastila said, cutting the transmission.

They weren't alone in here. Kairi could sense the person close by. Sheer, overwhelming malice enfolded him like a shroud and the Dark Side held him like a vortex. She felt it hard to breathe, the sheer power of all that emotion like hands on her throat.

Darth Malak—it had to be.

"You feel his presence, too." Bastila said. It wasn't a question. "He's waiting for us."

They twisted their way through the maze of blast doors and cargo grating, fast approaching the _Ebon Hawk_. As soon as they thought they could make it, however...Kairi's grip tightened on her saber as she approached the door. It opened before she could touch the controls. Sure enough, the Dark Lord was waiting for them.

It was like being hit with that cage again. All that Darkness around him almost brought her to her knees in sheer pain. Kairi threw up her strongest efforts to push back against it, but it only served to lessen it enough to stand. Malak wore a gray cape over his broad shoulders, and a red bodysuit. His face had become mottled and ashen, the tattooed patterns on his shaven head standing out more vividly. The lower half of his face was covered in a metal mask, and his voice came through a synthesizer. He stared directly at Kairi. Fury, annoyance…recognition? "So, it is true. And here I thought it could not be so."

Kairi could not move, but Bastila still had enough wit to act. "Darth Malak," Bastila said, powering on her saber.

Carth had his blasters at the ready and shot both barrels into him. "Down you go!"

Malak laughed off the shots as they seemed to warp around him. With a flourish, he pulled his lightsaber. Kairi dropped into a defensive stance, powering hers on. No, she had to protect them. Even if she were taken down, she had to give them the chance to get out of there. The Republic needed them to live more than it did her.

Malak cocked his head and addressed Bastila. "I hope you weren't thinking of leaving so soon, Bastila. I've spent far too much energy hunting you down and your companions to let you get away from me now." There was a cold smile in his mechanical voice, a malice that was absent from even HK-47's homicidal ranting. Kairi was still being knocked by the evil tangle of emotions coming from him, even as a streak of cruel satisfaction started to rise from it. Kairi brought her saber up to Soresu defensive, stopping Malak from getting closer.

He came within inches of her saber tip, tilting his head to get a better look at her face. "Besides, I had to see for myself if it were true. Even now, I can hardly believe my eyes."

His red saber lifted to mirror her own and eyes locked on hers as he _threw_ his emotions at her, almost causing her to fall. A sense of being cheated, deprived of something he wanted badly. Kairi struggled to keep her stance. How could he do that? Only Carth and Bastila had been able to send their emotions so clearly, and even then, it took them knowing her...

His voice was like the sharp blade the torturer used on her leg, every word like a jab. "Tell me, why did the Jedi spare you? Is it vengeance you seek at this reunion?"

_"It would take a Jedi, drawing heavily upon the Force to get this far, this fast...If you weren't..."_

Kairi shook her head, even as she willed her grip on the saber steady. "Reunion?"

_"I've known for some time that you were no mere translator or protocol assistant. Bastila has other reasons for keeping you at her side. You held a blade like a Jedi even on Taris…"_

Malak laughed. "What, you mean you don't know? All this time and you still haven't figured it out?"

_"You cannot refuse. Evaluation must continue. You must match the pattern in memory—your memory…"_

As improbable and as crazy as it seemed, the pieces were there…

_Why would a Jedi need a linguist? Isn't it strange that a civilian translator, added to the roster at the last minute, just happens to survive the attack? What are you, really? Senate Intelligence? Service Corps? Wouldn’t put it past the Jedi...”_

Malak was reveling in this, sadistic surety and smug confidence burning into her along with his seething wrath. "I wonder how long you would have stayed blind to the truth. Surely, some of what you once were must have surfaced by now. Even the combined power of the Jedi Council couldn't keep your true identity buried forever, could it?"

_"The goal was to capture Revan alive...The Jedi don't believe in executing their prisoners...No one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes."_

"No…" she whispered. "I…my name is…"

Malak cut off her denial with a savage outburst of fury. "You cannot hide from what you once were, Revan! Recognize that you were once the Dark Lord—and know I have taken your place!"

_The battle turned against Revan's forces, the deadly dance of Sith snubs and Republic fighters. Revan shouting orders that went unheeded as the reports came in that the ship had been boarded. The Jedi were coming…Standing firm as Bastila's team poured through the bridge doors. Summoning the honor guard for a last stand against the intruders…_

Kairi could barely speak. "I... I’m...No, that’s ridiculous.”

"You do not yet remember, Revan?" He seemed to curve the name into a weapon, swiping with brutal accuracy. "The Jedi set a trap. They lured us into battle against a small Republic fleet. During the attack, a team of Jedi knights boarded your ship."

_Bastila fighting Revan on the doomed ship...the explosion of the plasma conduit beneath Revan's feet…painful white fire… Revan's collapse to the deck, lifeless. Bastila had run over and taken off the heavy Sith mask, eyes wide with curiosity and shock…_

"The Jedi strike team captured you, and the Council used the Force to reprogram your mind; they wiped away your identity and turned you against your own followers."

_"...What better weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause, to use their own knowledge against them?"_

She tried to make a sound, tried to deny what she knew now had to be the truth, but Malak kept hammering, peppering his words with projected emotion. Of course, he would know about her…Revan's…empathic weakness…She tried to look to Bastila and Carth, but there was nothing. No denials, no encouragement, no protection. _There is no comfort – there is suffering._

"You must have seen flashes of your old life in your dreams, Revan—memories bubbling up to the surface. Surely, you must remember the battle in which you were captured…"

_"Normally, the Council would not accept an adult for training," Zhar looked gravely at Kairi. "But this is a... special case."_

_"I fear this quest for the Star Forge could lead you down an all too familiar path," Master Vrook's stern voice and suspicious feelings. "That's why we can ask for no less than perfection…"_

"Revan was killed! This is a trick." But even as she spat out the denial, she knew. No, make it not true! Make her fall to this deck, dead as she should have been long ago. Even as she tried to reach for strength, from Bastila and Carth, it would not come. Bastila was distant from her, withdrawing from the bond as much as possible. Bastila had every right to want to be free of her. Small wonder she had always looked upon her with vague and almost-hidden revulsion. And in Carth, there was only anger and blame. He was seeing her as the monster that cost him everything—even more to blame than Saul. His guns were wavering. He wanted to shoot her dead, and she was a scant step from begging him to do it.

_There is no love—there is loss._

Malak grabbed on to her sudden realization, almost laughing at her vulnerable state. "I always knew that one day the title of Dark Lord would be mine. When the Jedi strike team boarded your vessel, I saw my day had come. I ordered my own ships to fire on your bridge. I thought I could destroy all my enemies with a single, glorious victory! I never dreamed the Jedi would take you alive from the wreckage."

_"They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind," Carth said, staring out the window of the apartment on Taris as if he hoped to see Bastila in the vast cityscape. "It can destroy your memories and wipe away your whole identity."_

Kairi didn't dare look behind her. "It's true, isn't it, Bastila?"

"It's true," Bastila admitted in a choked voice. "I was part of the strike team sent to capture Revan...to capture you. When Malak fired on that ship, a conduit exploded and you were badly injured – dead in most ways. Your mind was destroyed, but I used the Force to preserve the flicker of life in your body. I brought you to the Jedi Council. They were the ones who healed your damaged mind."

"And gave me a new name and identity...a lie." Even under torture, she believed she could trust Bastila...but it was just another lie, wasn't it? Bastila was not her friend, she was her handler, just as the others had tried to warn her. "Did you consider this mercy, Bastila? You all should have let me die, given the galaxy its peace."

Bastila stammered. "The Jedi hold all life sacred, even that of a Sith Lord. I could not just let you die, Revan. Not if it were possible to save you."

"And if we'd known," Carth hissed. "We would have put her to death, then arrested your entire Order for treason."

"No," she said. "That's not the case. You needed the fragments that were left of Revan's memories, didn't you? You kept me locked away on the _Endar Spire_ like a prized holocron. And what happens after the Council gets what it wants from me?"

"Kairiana...Revan...please..."

"You pretended to me my friend, and the Council also lies about their intent, saying I would help others when all they wanted was to help themselves!"

Bastila was astounded. "How can you say that? Malak nearly killed you, but the Council gave you another chance to live. They gave you a chance to redeem yourself by defeating the Sith!"

"That wasn't their intention," Carth said quietly. "I heard them...I didn't know what it meant at the time. It's not just...just her you lied to and used. _It's all of us._ All of us who have risked our lives on this. How dare you ask the Republic to trust the Jedi? Sitting out the Mandalorian war, then giving aid and comfort to the enemy…"

With a wave of his hand, Malak beckoned to her. "Even now, I can sense you faltering. The Jedi lied, but I can tell you all of the truth, and all you have to do -”

She seemed to find a sudden strength in the pain, hand curling around the saber, despite the tingle in her fingertips signaling a dangerous degree of fatigue. She didn't want to live through it, but she wanted to make sure he didn't either. Maybe that would atone for an existence she never should have had. "No, Malak. You killed Revan. You and the Jedi Council."

He dropped into fighting stance, ready for the attack. Carth raised his gun, but Malak was quicker. With a mere gesture, Malak had Carth surrounded in a purple energy field, helplessly frozen in place. Kairi saw out the corner of her eye that Bastila was frozen as well.

Parrying an attack from Malak, Kairi dodged and struck him. The glancing blow hit her robe, and the smell of the burnt fibers was unmistakable.

"The Jedi Council were foolish to let you live. I won't make the same mistake." Malak seemed disgusted and Kairi could sense disappointment. "We shall finish this in the ancient Sith tradition: master versus apprentice, as it was meant to be!"

Red and green clashed together as their macabre dance continued in the tiny room. A jolt of power from his hand sent Kairi sprawling, frantically calling up a defense against it. Malak used the opening to escape, opening the blast door and running off. Kairi followed.

The deck was a convoluted maze of blast doors, blind alleys, and open cargo bays. The red and white lights all looked the same after a while. Sound echoed in the chamber, making it hard to tell where Malak had gone. He could be anywhere—or nowhere. Even using the Force to find him was hard here. Her connection was still faltering and weak…It was easier to find Malak than to think of the revelation, though.

_You let yourself be misled. You allowed yourself to be comfortable in the lie_. The little poisonous voice must have been old thought patterns, the remnants of Revan left behind peeking through the programming. _You drew your power from your companions, using them as a crutch. And without them, with your eyes opened...what are you?_

She was able to pick up Malak's trail again in through a blast door in the axis of the ship's corridors—a central room mostly used as a storage area. Picking the lock on the door, she readied her weapon.

Malak was waiting for her. "So, we come to how it should be—you and me, Revan. To the death...yours."

"To ours, Malak," she said, grimly saluting him. Keep his attention on her, give Carth and Bastila a chance to flee.

As Malak charged again, Kairi dodged, but Malak was swift. His saber glanced her arm, inflicting searing pain that jolted from her arm and into her whole body. Gritting her teeth and struggling to keep hold of her saber, she blocked the slash coming in for her neck and countered with a swipe to Malak's leg. It connected! Malak cursed loudly, his rage making him stronger. His footing was unsteady, and he staggered back from her.

Another flurry of attacks. Kairi strained against Malak's powerful swings, her injured arm screaming with pain. He knew her every move, all the defenses she relied upon, countering them with his raw strength. Soresu, her favored form, was a fine defense against blasters, and equally strong against Dark Jedi who inevitably sacrificed defense while drawing on passion, but it faltered in the face of Malak’s sheer strength. He was tall and muscular, able to summon greater raw strength with Shien strikes that shattered her defenses, putting her at constant disadvantage. It was all she could do to fend off the strikes aimed at her head and neck while her hands cramped painfully and her feet were going numb. He gave her no chance for a counter strike.

Malak's hand flew up and she was shoved violently against the bulkhead, her ears ringing with the blow. Her lightsaber was thrown from her hand on impact. As she fought off the unconsciousness threatening to swallow her, Malak crushed her lightsaber under his boot. Now she was defenseless. He lifted his hand, and a jolt of sickly orange energy surrounded her, ripping open the wounds she had hastily Force-healed. Wounds from the torture, from the fighting to get to this point, from the battle itself. Blood seeped from cuts all over her body. She screamed from the incredible pain but felt a certain sanctification in it.

It felt good to suffer. Her ending was coming, and she was going to welcome it. All things die – even the Force.

Carth and Bastila had freed themselves only seconds before and opened the door to see Kairi's broken body sprawled on the floor as Malak was taking his time and slowly taking her life.

Carth hesitated, but Bastila did not.

"This isn't over, Malak!"

He turned his attention from causing Kairi a slow death over to the new challenger. Pressing a panel, a heavy blast door started to drop in the middle of the room. Bastila charged ahead.

"Take her and get out of here!" Bastila said. "Carry out the mission without me."

"No. Leave –" he stopped. Damn it, Bastila! He's too strong, don't -"

Bastila ignored him. There wasn't time for it now. "For the Jedi!"

The blast doors sealed shut behind her.

Carth looked at his feet. She was sprawled on the floor unconscious, bloody and burned, her black hair covering her face like a half-mask. Carth tried to will his hand to rise, to use the blaster in his grip. One shot...just to make damn certain Revan was dead this time—no Dark Lord, no Jedi Council and their resurrection schemes, no more betrayal…

But he could not hold his hand steady. His eye caught a little glint of metal on her right hand, cheap wire twisted into a braid around her finger.

_Kairi…_

It was a small part of him that wouldn't let him pull that trigger. That damn irrational part of him wouldn't listen to the anger and need for revenge. His hands wouldn't obey him. The most he could do was holster his gun rather than lose his grip entirely.

He let out an anguished scream of frustration. Before he had chance to change his mind, Carth picked her off the floor, running for the _Hawk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the Saul fight and Big Reveal. And no, didn't leave our three "party leaders" in good shape. Again, thank you everyone for the comments so far


	5. Aftermath

**Chapter 5**   
**Aftermath**

The hangar bay was a mess, but the fire suppression had been lifted and the air was thin, but breathable. The loading ramp was open and ready for them as he ran forward. Once inside, Carth slammed the door controls shut and slid Kairi to the floor. The myriad of injuries, the pain from the torture, and all the little hurts adrenaline had been able to mask were starting to catch up to him.

He didn't care.

Staggering into the cockpit, he dropped heavily into the pilot's seat. "Bastila's gone. She sacrificed herself…and…"

"Carth, you..." Mission's voice was shaky as she sat in the co-pilot's chair.

"Shut up!" he roared at her. Only later would he remember the look of abject horror that crossed the girl's face.

"Sorry to do this..." said a rich baritone over his shoulder. There was the hiss of an injector gun and Carth fell face-forward.

"Damn," Jolee said, pulling Carth out of the chair, and taking the helm. "Zaalbar, I've one for you to drag. Powering on the launch sequence…"

Drawing on the Force and old memories of blockade running, his dark hands sailed across the controls with lightning speed. Ah, how it all came back like no time had passed at all!

Canderous's voice over the com. _"I've got turret one. Who's got two?"_

_"Ready! Statement: I have taken turret two. My programming includes starship gunnery."_

"Hold on!" Jolee said. "We've got a couple dozen of those snubs on our tail."

Two dozen Sith fighters to their smuggling craft and making an escape from the brig of a Sith's prized flagship. The odds...the cunning required...the stakes of life and death…

Another snub passed by his line of vision and Canderous swung the turret around to blast it into powder. Two more eluded his shots and got close enough to fire on the _Hawk_ , weakening her shields. Canderous cursed as he yanked the turret around for another pass.

If he were a man to honor his gods with prayer, he would have fallen to his knees in gratitude, but he was Mandalorian—battle itself was the prayer, the benediction, the request and the reward. He laughed from the sheer joy of it.

"Commentary: I could like you, meat-bag. You share my appetite for destruction and termination."

Another three fighters down from HK-47's guns. "Not half-bad yourself, droid. I've half a mind to put your brain in a Basilisk!"

Juhani knew what she was sensing. Battle outside, the others fighting off death. It was what she could not sense that made her uneasy. That was why she ventured into the armory, the room just off the docking ramp.

Gasping, she saw Kairi on the floor. Her robes were cut in several places and ugly looking burns could be seen. Those burns could only have come from a lightsaber, and Juhani was relieved to see she had not lost limbs or her life. But she was unconscious, and badly wounded. Juhani felt the ship jolt beneath her and almost send her off balance. A brief mind-touch almost sent her sprawling – shame and horror radiating from Kairi's broken spirit like a dying star.

Kneeling, she picked up the smaller woman. "No sister. Whatever they have done, I cannot leave you to this. For now, you will live. You must live."

"Locked!" Mission said. "Hyperspace coordinates in! Go!"

"Hold on!" Jolee shouted and punched the sequence into place, the stars outside streaking and warping. Only a split second later, the ship started to shake like it was going to fall apart.

"What's happening?" shrieked Mission.

Zaalbar had just placed Carth in the sickbay before joining T3-M4 in the race to the engine room. Instantly, they saw what was wrong—the sparking and shuddering panels. Saul Karath's crew had rigged a trap on the engines, one set to go off once they hit hyperspace. Fixing it in hyperspace was going to be a heroic effort, but with the Sith on their tails, they had no choice.

The droid motored behind the engines, components in full gear as it struggled to remove the foreign object from the back of the ship. Zaalbar ran at full tilt for the tool chests, using phrases in Shyriiwook that his father would disapprove of. Why did they have to make these compartments and couplings so small?

Canderous climbed down from the turret and Jolee shouted at him. "Trouble in the engine room. Zaalbar and T3 need help!"

Jolee noticed Mission was a bit pale. He knew she was a youngling, but most everyone aboard the ship was a kid by his estimation. It didn't hit him how painfully young the Twi'lek was until she looked up at him and wasn't able to form words, just stared off into nothing.

"You're doing good, Mission," Jolee said. "But don't be giving up on me. You've got to reroute the power so that they can work back here. Did Carth show you how to do that?"

That brought the girl back into focus, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before focusing on her task.

T3-M4 hooted as it skated out from behind the engine, dragging a tangled mess of parts behind it. Canderous had reached the engine room and saw what they were dealing with. "A sleeper. Damn. I knew that Karath fellow had to be smart," he said.

Sleepers were a combination of computer spike and bomb, set to go off once the ship's power levels reached a certain point (like entering hyperspace). They infected and corrupted the ship's computers while the bomb part of it blew the engine to bits. The combination would usually destroy the ship instantly. Well, the Force was with them if it didn't blow them to bits already. It must have been misaligned slightly. It did give him a nasty idea as to how to elude the Sith, but that would have to wait...He could barely fit in here with that big Wookiee at work, but T3 -M4, being the smart little droid, was already heading for the auxiliary controls. The _Ebon Hawk_ and the droid were the smartest investments Davik ever made.

"Zaalbar, go with the droid to auxiliary controls. I'll be trying to bypass power to them manually. The sleeper's just infected and wrecked primary systems, I hope."

"Jolee had the com open as he was talking. "I'm going to have to get us out of hyperspace, folks." He turned to Mission. "I'm going to talk you through a difficult maneuver, but I know you can do it…"

Zaalbar and T3-M4 were already at work on the secondary systems. Canderous had successfully transferred the power, and Jolee was going to drop them out of hyperspace to complete the rest.

There was still a task Canderous needed to finish. He hauled in the ship's damaged parts—burnt-out components, deck plating, trash...and stuffed it into the airlock. He knew what he was doing was crazy in hyperspace, but it was half-way a guarantee that it would fool the Sith, especially with…

A whistle and hoot behind him. T3M4 was right at his side like a faithful war beast, and he also carried something in his claw, something small that had a flashing blue light on it. Canderous grinned and patted the flat silver surface of the droid's head.

"Good boy. Bringing me the tracking beacon." He tossed it into the pile, sealed the doors, and vented the ship trash into space, where it turned into subatomic particles once it hit the hyperspace slipstream.

Seconds after that, the ship emerged from hyperspace. Canderous heard Jolee's voice over the com.

_"Damn Sith pulled us WAY off course. We haven't very much in the auxiliary engines, either. They pretty much left us dead in the water."_

Canderous thought a moment. "Can we get to the Yavin system?"

_"Yavin? That's a damn wasteland, Canderous."_

"Not if you know where to look," Canderous said.

_"Well,"_ Jolee grumbled. _"We haven't got the power to limp to much else right now. Yavin it is."_

Juhani somehow thought her friend would be larger than this. Kairi seemed to be so delicate as Juhani carried her. She put Kairi in her bunk, and with a whispered apology, started taking off Kairi's damaged robes, placing the bloodied and burnt garments to the side. Even the underclothing was in shreds and had to go.

The extent of the damage made Juhani ill to behold. Kairi's body was a tangle of cuts, burns, and bruises…Juhani fought down the flash of rage at the sadists that did this. _There is no emotion…._

She left Kairi's side only to get a life-support pack from the emergency supplies. Her skills in Force-healing were limited, so Quatra's training included first aid. Juhani knew it was necessary—as Jedi were in battle more often than they would care to be, and injuries were inevitable. Now, she saw another purpose behind it. Concentrating on the injuries and how best to heal them was also forcing Juhani to ground herself, to allow the rage to pass over her and through her so that she would not be distracted from her task. It forced her not to think of the battle outside, and not of the chaos aboard the ship…

_There is no chaos; there is harmony._

"Ju…" She was struggling back to consciousness. Thank the Force!

"I am seeing to your injuries. Please be still."

"You should…I must…let me die…"

Juhani gripped Kairi's hand. "No. I cannot. Do not ask that of me – ever. Even if you were not…someone I care for…I am a Jedi."

"No more mercy," Kairi muttered before passing out again.

The fragile stability that Juhani had maintained took a nosedive. She ran for the door. "Jolee, Jolee, help! We need a healer!"

Jolee waved Canderous to the controls and charged back to crew quarters. Seeing Kairi's state of undress, he sealed the door out of respect. He motioned to Juhani to get a blanket. Juhani tossed the blanket over Kairi as Jolee checked the vitals.

"Damn," the old man grumbled. "Damn it all. She must have found out…"

"Found out?" Juhani was confused, but there wasn't time for it.

"Get to sickbay and check on Carth. Send someone back here with medical supplies. Hurry about it!"

Juhani flew out the door. Jolee adjusted the blanket. Kairi's body was in shock and her mind was in a death spiral. Just as he feared. He pulled a second vial of argonel and poured the contents down her throat while overpowering her weakened mind. "You stop fighting me, lass. Contrary to what you think, some of us don't give a damn about what you were then."

Oblivion – not death but a drug and Force-induced coma. Jolee sighed bitterly. That was an extreme measure, and it still could turn fatal, but at least she wasn't going to kill herself for now.

_< <"Jolee, I have brought you medical supplies. Juhani is checking on Carth. His wounds have been bandaged, and he is resting.">>_

Jolee looked up at Zaalbar stooped in the doorway. "Best to confine him to the sickbay – especially when he comes to. With his mental state the way it is, he's liable to hurt himself further."

_< <"I do not understand.">> _Zaalbar put the medical kit on Juhani's bunk.

"I'm afraid Carth's got himself locked in the human equivalent to Wookiee hunting-rage. Knowing the man, it might be a while before he comes to his senses." He started to snap on a diagnostic cuff on one of Kairi's arms. It barely fit – she was so small. The infusion band was a little easier to hook up as he attached the kolto supply.

_< <"Where did you learn such things, Hairless One?">>_

"I was good at Force Healing, so I got sent through Exar Kun's War as a Jedi Healer. Through my wanderings, I…told others I was a medic, and it got me passage on ships. Smugglers court danger, and they'll welcome a fellow aboard that can patch them up and fly their boat. Of course, the truth would come out. They'd see my lightsaber, and I would have to leave. Better that way."

_< <"Oh,">> _Zaalbar said. << _"Pardon me, but you have never seemed one who flees for high branches at the sight of a kinrath." >>_

"We all have something that our bravery can't digest," Jolee said glumly, checking the equipment one more time. "She's grave, but stable, and I've done what I can for now. Keep watch on her, Zaalbar. Open it only for Juhani or me until I give –"

"Where is she?" Carth's shout reverberated off the bulkhead walls.

"Carth, please, you are not well, go back to – " Juhani was trying to reason with him.

" _Stang!_ Zaalbar, guard this door!" Jolee ran out.

The commotion had reached the common room. Carth was limping because his entire right shin was bound in kolto bandages – as was his waist and hands. Juhani was trying to push Carth back towards the sickbay. Mission stood in the middle of the room, too in shock to react. T3-M4 was oblivious, hooked up to the auxiliary computers. Zaalbar guarded the door to Kairi's quarters, confused. HK-47 climbed down from the turrets, and Canderous dashed in from the cockpit, getting behind Carth and attempting to subdue him.

The whole crew was present. Jolee ruefully reflected that the Force certainly had good timing for this one.

"Back off. You don't know what's going on."

Canderous made a grab for Carth. "Settle down, man!"

"Bastila goes and throws herself at Malak –"

"You…you mean she's dead?" Mission asked.

"Malak's not that stupid," Jolee said sharply. "He'll try to turn her. With her Battle Meditation, the Sith fleet would be invincible."

"You have to let me go! Revan's on this ship!" Carth argued, eluding Canderous's grasp again.

"Juhani, come here! Help me hold him."

Juhani blocked Carth's forward progress, effectively sandwiching him between her and Canderous.

"All this time, we've had Malak's old Sith Master hearing our secrets, listening to our plans…"

Canderous finally managed to get his arms around Carth to restrain him. "That's crazy talk. Settle down. Revan is dead."

"No, she isn't!"

"He's right," Jolee said.

Carth seemed to run out of fuel, slumping over. The rest of the crew regarded Jolee with shock. A terrible moment of silence rippled through the room. It was then that Jolee spoke.

"I knew…back on Kashyyyk, but I wanted to be certain before I said anything. I wanted to know what we were dealing with. I…confronted –" He changed his phrasing. "It would be more accurate to say I blackmailed the information from Bastila."

"You knew?" Carth hissed. "You knew all this kriffing time?"

Jolee nodded.

"I ought to break your neck next," Carth grumbled. "What did that Jedi shutta tell you?"

Jolee ignored Carth's hurtful words. "Less than a year ago, the Jedi Council set a trap for Revan. The Council gave a token order to try and capture Revan alive, but they didn't think Bastila could actually do it." He chuckled mirthlessly. "And I'll bet they pissed their collective trousers when she did."

Canderous turned pale. "Revan…a woman? And alive?"

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Juhani countered.

"Anyway, what got pulled from the battle was pretty much a husk – the body could be healed, but no consciousness. The Jedi Council still needed information locked in Revan's brain, so they did something…I'm still debating how stupid and unethical this was…” Jolee finished the explanation and braced for the fallout. “They construct a new identity and pass her off as Bastila's aide."

Realization dawned across everyone's face. Mission was first to speak. "Revan? You mean Kairi is Revan? This is…this is big!"

"That tiny woman defeated Mandalore?"

Juhani sank against the bulkhead. "Revan…leading an army against the Mandalorians. She freed me from slavery…I remember asking her if she were a goddess."

HK-47 hung his metal head, then looked up, his gold eyes flashing blue. "Commentary: I am…experiencing something unusual!"

"Stay back, folks," Canderous warned.

"Objection: There is no need. I am quite stable. This stimulus is activating…. yes! Statement: I believe I have a homing beacon. Sith protocols require all droid knowledge to be deleted upon assassination missions and restored upon return. My core memory has been set to activate upon return to my original master! Exclamation: I am quite delighted to be in my mistress's service again. Where is she so that I may greet her?"

"Incapacitated," Jolee answered. "And badly injured."

The droid seemed sad to hear this. "Statement: Mistress Kairi-Revan has made provisions for this outcome. Until she is functional, my command is to protect and serve you, Carth Onasi."

"An assassin droid. Just what I always wanted," Carth said drunkenly before passing out from the lack of blood.


	6. Outpost at Universe Edge

**Chapter 6  
Outpost at Universe Edge**

Suvan Tam was used to being alone. He got his visitors every so often, of course, but the old Rodian was simply happy to be somewhere where interruptions were few. He had been brought to the Yavin system as a boy, during the time of Exar Kun. The fallen Jedi had hundreds of slaves brought to the system to rebuild and restore the ancient temples on the surface of Yavin 4. Life was simple – one worked, or one died. Among them was a Baragwin weapon-smith and inventor that quickly saw Tam's talents and took him as an apprentice.

Ah, but gone now…all gone. Most of the slaves died when the Republic razed the planet's surface. Others simply left the system when there was nothing for them, but Tam found this isolated space station and slowly brought it back to life. His old shuttle still made trips back and forth to the planet to gather the wreckage of droids and equipment, digging them out from old airless bunkers and dusty temple ruins. He had never been bothered by the ghosts he knew were there. They probably just thought of him as one of the slaves still.

Tam was at his workbench tweaking his latest creation – black armor with servomotors and neural links that would work with most humanoids. It would allow for much greater flexibility and dexterity than anything he had seen before. It was best to save it for a really nice buyer. He pushed it into the corner and took a moment to inspect it for any previously unseen defects.

Davik was overdue. He knew the Tarisian liked to visit at least once every couple months. Tam was proud of the armor he had made for Davik (it was as much a work of art as it was protective gear), and Davik wasn't such a sore loser at Pazaak as many of the other Exchange clients. He never saw any trouble in dealing with a criminal Syndicate. He spent most of his boyhood in Hutt Space, after all. To him, rule by crime lord was perfectly normal. Besides, they weren't Sith, and the Hutts could use a little competition.

He got an incoming transmission – text only – and his antenna stalks perked up when he saw the readout on the monitor. It was the _Ebon Hawk_. Well, something must have kept Davik busy, he guessed, and company was company. He sent back a greeting, and dispatched his best repair droids – AT-5 and D-403 – to prep the landing bay and see to the repairs the ship appeared to need.

After the ship docked, Tam heard the familiar code punched into the access panel.

It wasn't Davik, which puzzled Tam for a moment. He recognized the Mandalorian – Davik's favorite enforcer. He had a big and hairy alien he had never seen before, and a Twi'lek girl behind him.

_< <"Uh, hello there. I know you – you Davik's muscle man, but who's that with you?">>_

"I ought to fill you in on a few things, old man," Canderous said. "Davik's dead. The Sith blasted the whole planet. A few friends and I stole the _Hawk_ for ourselves, but we took some damage running from one of their warships."

_"More Sith?"_ Tam shook his head. << _"Not shocked. Sith like Exchange that way. Kill one, someone else takes his place. Always it has to be – guess universe likes it." >> _He walked up to the large, hairy creature and examined. << _"Never see one like you before." >>_

"His name's Zaalbar," explained the young Twi'lek. "He's a Wookiee. Sorry that he can't speak your language. I'll translate if you want. By the way, I'm Mission. Nice place you have here."

Tam beamed. << _"You like? Well, you friendlier than most Exchange. And so this is what Wookiee looks like. I hear those nasty Trandoshans talking about Wookiees – never thought I would see one." >>_

"We're not exactly working for the Exchange, Tam," Canderous explained. "More… freelancing at the moment. And those boot-scrapings are still causing you trouble?"

_< <"The Exchange hasn't shown up here in many months. But you telling me Davik's dead – makes sense as to why no visitors. Unfortunately, no Exchange means they start to get ideas…">>_

Canderous groaned. It figured. Well, he hoped they wouldn't visit while he was here. They were already down three crewmen.

Zaalbar signed with his speech to make it clear to Canderous. < _"Trandoshans here? That can be very bad." >>_

"Mercenaries and thugs," explained Canderous. "They're frequent guests to this outpost, and the Exchange wielded the bigger club here."

"Beks and Vulkars all over again," muttered Mission.

"More like your Beks and Vulkars on battle stims, Mission," he told her.

_< <"Trandoshans have a system of honor,">> _Zaalbar said (and signed). << _"Closer to your people's than mine, Canderous. Czerka never got a good hold on their planet because they believed they would be rewarded in the afterlife by how many they killed. Wasn't 'cost-effective' as the Czerka would say." >>_

"I don't suppose it would be," Canderous said. "Unfortunately, gaining an outpost like this would look pretty good on their score card."

_< <"Anyway, you here now. I sent my droids to fix your ship. Anything else you need?">>_

"We've two badly injured crew," Canderous said, then the words seemed to stop in his throat. "Tam, I think you need to know that there are Jedi on the _Hawk_ now."

_< <"Jedi? How you get in with Jedi? Must be good story – that will be part of your payment.">>_

"Oh, it's a good story, all right. I also have some other means of payment…" He gestured to a metal cargo box in the hallway. Tam hobbled past Zaalbar to open it. He took out the contents and inspected them. Ration bars, droid parts, computer spikes, security spikes, and grenades. Aside from the ration bars, the other things had been cobbled together by the crew to earn pin money in port.

Tam's eyes lit up. << _"Wow. You know what I like! I get your friends to my infirmary. PA-S5 is good droid. Won her in a Pazaak match from Danya Mel." >>_

"Dayna doesn't scrimp on the medical supplies, either" Canderous commented. "Not often you see a surgeon change careers and go into arms dealing." He thought a moment. "One of the Jedi aboard is a medic. He'll probably want only one to go to your infirmary. The other is going to stay on ship, I think."

_< <"Oh,">>_said Tam. << _"They injured trying to kill each other?" >>_

Canderous pinched the bridge of his nose. "Another long story, Tam."

****

Carth groaned. His head felt like it was splitting open. At first, he was disoriented. Had it all been a bad dream? Please, tell him it was all a bad dream…

He looked down. One shoulder, his entire left shin, both his hands, and his waist were swathed in kolto bandages.

No dream. Damn it, where were his guns? Where was…

_No, "Kairi" was nothing more than a lie. The Queen of Traitors, and I've betrayed…_ He wanted to be sick. He had been so close to giving himself over to her – no, he had given himself up to her. The fact they hadn't arrived at the main event was a technicality. _Nice going, Onasi, you fell into bed with Morgana's killer. You're not much of a man, are you?_

Carth didn't know what to think anymore. He thought all this time that he was just waiting to get his revenge or doing what he had to. But…if it were just that, then how could he explain what had happened? He was supposed to be dead. Didn't he boast on Taris how he trusted no one? Didn't he promise himself at Morgana's grave that he would never love another woman?

_You got lonely and weak, Onasi,_ he scolded himself. _You trusted the pretty face and feigned innocence of the Jedi's little pawn. All her flattering words and questions – all designed to get you lowering your guard. Then, you really get stupid. How many of your own "brothers" in the Republic army were killed by Canderous of Ordo? And that Mandalorian isn't one damn bit sorry for the carnage. Remember how thrilled you were when you helped load an entire freighter with all of those bastards' weapons and armor, then stood next to Saul and cheered when Revan's flagship blasted it all to atoms?_

He got up from the makeshift sickbed and went pacing the ship. He was still limping from the bandages on his leg. Frack, what possessed him to survive that in the first place? He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the deck plates beneath his bare feet. No, they weren't moving. Did they even…no, he wouldn't be on the ship if that were the case. He looked out one of the ports. They seemed to be at some derelict-looking space station he didn't recognize. His mind was too fuzzy to make out the pattern of stars to give him a clue where they had docked.

His search of the ship turned up empty. He was alone. At least they were nice enough to hang up his blasters in the armory. He strapped them on, without thinking. Where to go? He considered the cockpit for a moment. He'd spent most of his life behind the controls of some ship or another. No, he might end up damaging the controls.

The armory was out, and so was the crew quarters.

_Make this as clean as possible._

He finally decided on the cargo bay. He could seal the door and be alone, the soft hum of the engine on standby providing soothing white noise. Sitting down on the bare metal plates hurt somewhat, but that was going to be temporary. He settled into place, pulled up the blaster, and was about to place the barrel behind his teeth when something clanked and startled him. Putting the blaster to the side, he saw he'd knocked one of the panels ajar. One of the many secret compartments on the ship, no doubt. This one was filled with quarter-liter glass bottles. The sour-bitter smell confirmed the contents – Tarisian ale.

Hey, under the circumstances, what's one last drink going to hurt?

Twisting off the cap of one, he held it up in a toast to no one. "Here's to Taris…Telos…who knows how many other worlds…And here's to Revan. Long may she rot."

Hovering…

Again…

Not dead…

Not alive…

Without the energy to move forward or back, Kairi floated inside the kolto tank suspended by the diagnostic harness, floating in the viscous, pale blue substance like it was a metal womb.

Before…Before waking up on Taris and seeing Carth…before feeling instantly safe in his presence…

Before being hit with a terrible bolt of energy, screaming, and blackness…

Before waking on the _Endar Spire_ and being afraid…alone…pulling on clothing from a nearby locker when she heard noises at the door.

Before those things, before the start of her life as she knew it…

_"May…may I name her?"_

_The room was dark. The only light seemed to come from the kolto tank on the far wall. Illuminated from the back, it seemed to glow a pale blue as light passed through it. Within it, the broken body for the former Sith Lord floated. The physical injuries were healing. The ashen pallor and other deformities caused by the Dark Side's ravages were all but gone, but if Bastila tried to sense consciousness…_

_Bastila touched the outside of the tank, and the part of her life she had given up seemed to answer her. No sentience yet, but life in an unfinished state of potential. If she had to describe it, it would be like what she sensed once when Jan-Della Cor came to visit her._

_Jan-Della had once been a Knight, but injuries and weariness sustained during her career left her putting aside her lightsaber and asking to be transferred to Service Corps. She wed one of the local farmers and was heavy with child during one of her visits to the Enclave. Bastila remembered touching the woman's swollen abdomen and feeling the life-in-progress. No consciousness as one would define it, but the potential to grow into it. Bastila could also sense the strong bond the forming life had to Jan-Della, that part of the former Knight's life had been fused into the new creation._

_She knew what Revan's consciousness had been like. The Sith Lord was like a vortex of pain and fury, and a powerful will…so powerful…When Malak's ship blew the plasma conduit behind Revan, the Dark's Lord's last thoughts hadn't been what she expected. It was only a flash of betrayal, followed by grief, sadness…and the last moment was like a letting go as that which had been Revan fled. When Bastila removed the mask, there was nothing but ashes – dead in all aspects save the basest of functions, and even they would flicker out in seconds unless something was done._

_She took the choice of a Jedi, hadn't she? To preserve a life, even that of a foe? Except, she now realized, she hadn't preserved a life. There was some of Revan present, to be sure, but Bastila could sense the part of her own life she gave up had fused onto it, like a cortosis weave on steel. What was growing was neither herself nor Revan, but something…different._

_"Bastila."_

_She had been watching the kolto tank so intently that she hadn't even sensed Master Vrook's presence. Straightening her robes as she turned, she addressed the gruff Jedi Master._

_"I'm…I'm sorry." Inwardly, she cursed herself for being caught off-balance. Surely, she could do better! "This whole matter with Revan has left me uneasy. I can't seem to get her out of my mind."_

_"Your actions were brash and impulsive," Vrook said, attempting his usual scolding. He hesitated and sighed heavily. "Yet noble and acting from the Order's tenets."_

_"You and Master Vandar asked for Revan to be brought back alive," Bastila reminded him. "Was that an error?"_

_"Yes…and no," Vrook admitted. "We would have preferred Revan alive for questioning, but we hadn't believed it was possible. We hadn't factored in Malak's sudden turn, either. And now you've gotten yourself Force-Bonded to this abomination."_

_The door opened and Zhar was next to come in. He nodded politely to them, then walked up to the tank, hanging his head. Was it grief? Bastila never could read the masters well. Zhar's pink lekku were visibly drooping as he placed a hand on the tank. "What a waste. A terrible, sad waste."_

_"I cannot grieve, Zhar. Especially when it was the indulgences granted to them by you and their other teachers that allowed their rebellion and fall to happen in the first place."_

_"Vrook," Zhar scolded. "Disagree with me if you have to, but not in front of a student. As you no doubt recall, the High Council's decisions only came after days of debate."_

_"Speaking of the High Council, have they decided?"_

_"No," Zhar admitted. "This situation is without precedent. We have confirmed that Revan's body can be healed fully. But there is no life, no sentience."_

_"Then…" Bastila felt small in the presence of the Masters. "Then what are the visions? The memories I keep sensing? If she is not conscious, how can I see what lies her mind?"_

_"It is your life which sustains hers," Zhar answered. "And allows you to see what remains of Revan's memories."_

_"Perhaps there may be a bright spot in this after all, Zhar," Vrook said. "If Bastila is able to access Revan's memories, then there might be something useful within them…something to explain the Sith fleet or their tactics."_

_"And you would leave her suspended like this? Neither living or dead?"_

_"If Revan dies, we are left with nothing. If she lives, she will endanger us all. This is the only possible way."_

_Zhar scowled. "And you would consider this to be mercy or compassion? She may be suspended like this for a very long time – perhaps even years. Maybe it best that we allow her to become one with the Force."_

_"And lose what could save our Order? We can discontinue life support once we have no need of the body."_

_"What good will the Jedi become if we do not hold our own tenets sacred, Vrook?"_

_"Masters?" Bastila said._

_Hearing her voice, the two masters stopped their discussion and turned to her. "What is it, Bastila?" Vrook asked._

_"There… " Bastila said hesitantly. "There is always a third option…."_

_Vrook shook his head. "There is always a third option" was a constant quote from Revan when a black or white issue was introduced. Even as an apprentice, Revan rarely considered things with a "yes" or "no" answer._

_"What do you suggest, Padawan?" Zhar asked._

_"Can you not sense it?" Bastila said. "There is life within that broken shell – a bit of Revan's and a bit of mine. Perhaps there lies a solution."_

_They looked at one another, silently communicating._

_"The Force bond you share with Revan is the only thing that keeps her body alive. We…may be able to sever it and set you free," Vrook said._

_"I…I'm not certain I want to." Bastila said._

_The eyes of the masters grew wide with shock, but Zhar recovered first. "What is it, Padawan?"_

_Bastila studied the body in the blue tank. "If I…if I strengthen the bond, it is very likely that she will remain alive. Perhaps it may be enough to allow the healers to restore consciousness."_

_"Use you as a vessel to give birth again to the Dark Lord?" Vrook asked. "Even if it could be done, it will endanger your life should the attempt fail."_

_"You must also realize, Bastila," Zhar warned. "That while the Force Bond now can be broken without much consequence, this action will bind you to her permanently. Even if what you are proposing can be accomplished, Revan's mind cannot and never will be fully restored. "_

_"I…know," Bastila said. Why were her eyes stinging so? Why did she feel a need to protect this…this abomination? Something that never should have been. Could it be because of that life growing within? "She cannot be Revan. It…is far too dangerous. But what if those memories she still may have could tell us her secrets? There may be enough fragments to discern something – like the source of the Sith fleet or Malak's weaknesses?" Bastila somehow knew these were excuses. Deep in her heart, she wanted this new life to have its chance, even if her Jedi rationality was more in agreement with her Masters._

_Zhar glanced over to Vrook. Could it work? Vrook seemed to think it over. "That does seem to be a… merciful option. A blank slate…like a newborn. We can keep her here under heavy guard, I suppose."_

_"But keeping her as a stunted infant would be no more merciful than leaving her in a coma," Zhar pointed out. "Padawan Bastila, you are proposing something dangerous. This may be far too much to leave on your shoulders. To craft an adult, one with the potential to still turn to evil…it is very risky."_

_"We've little to lose," Vrook said. "We can attempt cutting Revan off from the Force as Nomi Sunrider did to Ulic Qel-Droma. It won't be complete as the Force Bond still needs to be in place, but we could do a good enough job in preventing her from using the Force again – maybe even kill off that empathic ability that sent her into Darkness in the first place."_

_"We…will propose this before the Councils, Bastila. Only then, will we have a decision."_

_"Masters?"_

_"Yes, Padawan," asked Zhar._

_"If the Council…decides on this option, I have one request. May…may I name her?"_

_If Vrook were not a Jedi Master, he would have groaned and smacked his forehead in frustration. Zhar was more intrigued by the idea. "As she will be your responsibility, Bastila, I do not see why not. After all, we cannot continue to call her Revan if this plan is taken."_

_The pair left the room, allowing Bastila to be alone once more with this neither-her-nor-Revan. But what would she call this? After a moment, she thought of a perfect name. She had never said a proper farewell to dear Father before she was given up to the Order. Dedicating herself to the Jedi meant she would never see him again, anyway. Yet, the thought of him gave her an idea. He told Bastila often that she took on many features of her grandmother, his own mother. Now, what was Grandmother's name?_

_Kairiana Nikovan-Shan – that was it._

_"Kairiana..." She rolled the name around on her tongue like a sweet. Yes, that would be very suitable. "Kairiana Niko," Bastila said, a little louder, feeling giddy…and terribly worried. This was not befitting a Jedi, but she now knew just a bit what Jan-Della must have felt for that child growing in her body._

_"Please, Kairiana," she whispered to the still-forming life. "I want you to come into this world…Please let this be the right decision."_

_****_

"Move, damn it!"

Canderous charged down the corridor, canon at the ready. "Team one, position?"

"Holding at Airlock Three" Juhani said. "Wait a minute, incoming fire!"

There was a sound of static over the com channel and Canderous grumbled, signaling to Jolee, who was right on his heels.

"Must have got the drop on them, and using grenades, too. We'd better double back to make sure –"

HK-47 came into range. Upon seeing them, HK-47 raised his rifle and took a shot. Jolee deftly used his green lightsaber to reflect it back, hitting the droid. Surprisingly, the first shot only took out the droid's shield. Canderous managed to dodge the droid's counterattacks, one shot glanced past his armor before he countered. It took the second shot to power HK-47 down, the droid slumping over. Jolee, by then, had sensed the other set of "invaders" behind him, and Force pushed them back. The grenade in Mission's hand rolled a short distance away and detonated.

When the flash faded, Mission and Zaalbar got up. "Darn it! Thought we could get you with that one. What's the score?"

"Two dead, Three wounded," Juhani said, coming back into view with T3-M4. "I will admire that most clever trap you and Zaalbar set for us at the airlock."

"Yeah, I'm still no match for a good set of Force Powers, though," she said, looking at Jolee. She checked her chronometer.

"Ten minutes, eighteen seconds, Canderous."

HK-47 powered back up from dormancy. "Correction: Ten minutes, twelve seconds for the actual scenario. The additional time was for you to mimic expiring life functions."

"We're going to try and get a win under ten next time," he said. With Bastila, Carth, and Kairi out of the picture, the others were looking to him for guidance. So, he did the best thing he knew how to do. With Tam's permission, he'd started running drills on the station – three a day. Damned if the Sith would catch them with their pants down ever again. They set their blasters and lightsabers to the lowest settings, used wasters instead of vibroblades, and threw flash grenades that did little more than emit a moment's worth of blinding light.

This was different than commanding Mandalorian troops, or the drunken rabble Davik put on security staff. Not all of them had the same method of fighting, and even the Jedi were on opposite ends of their Order's teachings. So, team assignments were done by lot, so each would learn how best to coordinate with the others. He learned that while Jolee wasn't the strongest of fighters, his Force abilities were impressive. He learned just how nasty and creative Mission could be with booby traps, and he developed an appreciation for Zaalbar's strength and prowess with blades.

"Next time, street rat, use a stealth belt, and get the Jedi looking elsewhere. Juhani, your own stealth abilities are good, but you need to learn how better to check for traps. And you'll be sparring with Zaalbar, I think, old man."

"Set me against a Wookiee. Nice of you," Jolee commented.

"He knows a few tricks with a blade you don't," said Canderous. "All right, everyone. I think the droids have finished some of the airlock repairs by now. Mission, you and I will go out with EVA suits and check that aft shield generator. The rest of you, I expect to see at 0500 for another drill. Dismissed!"

The group broke apart in twos and ones, as Canderous and Mission made their way back to the _Hawk's_ berth.

"I think I figured out why you're doing this," Mission said as they approached the airlock.

"The Sith can't catch us flat-footed again," he grumbled. "We have to stay battle ready – especially when we’re down three of our best fighters."

"Well, that's one reason," she said as she opened the door to the airlock. "Other reason is that you hate sitting still as much as I do. Better to do _something_ rather than sit and keep getting antsy." She paused. "You're scared."

"Scared? Don't make accusations like that unless –"

"Not that kind of 'scared,' you nerf-herder!" she said. "Thing is, you can't really do anything about Carth and Kairi, like the rest of us, so you're doing your best on what you can do – like making sure no one else is going to get hurt."

"Still can't believe she is who they say. Revan was the greatest warrior of our age. In that final battle over Malachor, it was only by his -" he corrected himself. "Her actions that the Republic prevailed. Nothing could have stopped us had that little woman been one of my people." He looked up. "And to know I have fought by Revan's side all this time. It is…humbling. And I won't use a word like that lightly."

"I just…well, I try not to think about it. But these drills help, so…thanks."

A sudden clatter of broken glass from the direction of the cargo bay stopped their conversation. Mission was quicker to investigate. She peeked around the stack of cargo containers. Three bottles were rolling around the deck already. A fourth was broken, lying next to a discarded blaster. A half-finished bottle was in Carth's hand.

"Carth, that's…" She picked up an empty, sniffed, and grimaced. "Tarisian ale?"

Canderous had now caught up. He let out a noise of disgust. "Five bottles? With your injuries? Your stamina is impressive, but your judgment is obviously shot."

"Who cares?" Carth's words were quite slurred, and he had trouble getting to his feet. "Not you, I hope."

Mission scowled and moved to his side to steady him. "Carth, I'm getting you back to bed. Jolee's gonna blow his stack if he catches you like this."

He shoved her back. "If you were smart, little girl, you'd get away from me."

Hurt crossed Mission's face, but she tried to cover it. "Yeah, you smell like a Vulkar," she retorted.

"Dead…Bastila shouldn't be…it's that _damn Sith_ that should be. And I'm still here…There's nothing for me here."

Canderous grabbed his other arm while Mission got into position again. "You've all the wit of a bantha right now. You come along – willingly or not."

Carth laughed in a way that made even Canderous uncomfortable. "What was I thinking? Sure, rebuild…renew…just forget. Just try to replace what's gone like it's nothing more than a droid part.."

"That's the ale and the drugs talking. May you pay for this idiocy with the hangover of your life, _vod._ "

“I can’t be your brother!" Carth roared. His words were slurred, and he stood unsteadily, but he tried to shake them off. "Damn it. We wish, we play, we pretend, but it's not the truth! I'm a 'Republic man.' I probably killed your brothers!"

"Then they died well," Canderous fired back. "At the hands of a worthy foe. The war between our peoples is over."

"Our families are DEAD! All of them! And it's because of Revan. Revan, who's got all of us wrapped around her like slaves. Revan, who can't possibly know the pain she's caused. Revan, who was supposed to _die_! And -" In mid-rant, the infamous Tarisian Ale "kick" took effect and caused him to utterly lose his footing, dropping most ungracefully to the deckplates.

Canderous let out a sigh and shook his head. "Why do I not wish to kill you for what you just said…" He hefted the smaller man over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Come on, Mission, he'll sleep this off."

No answer. He looked around. She had vanished.

The station's infirmary was old, cramped, and small. Once it had patched up (or more often, functioned as a morgue for) Republic soldiers sent to the thick of battle in Exar Kun's War. Even after four decades, the walls still held the cold of death. The dim light added to the feeling of walking into a mausoleum rather than a healing center.

Tam's two droids hovered on their repulsorlift bases, keeping their silent guard over their sole patient. Kairi floated in a kolto tank, clad only in a sensor mesh that provided the droids with a constant readout of her vital signs. She hung limply in the harness, a mask over her nose and mouth providing air. Again, the fact that their previous stop had been Manaan was a blessing, as they had plenty of medical supplies and kolto. Jolee had the foresight to stock up, especially when he won the Republic a discount in Sunry's trial, grumbling that this was the only good that came of it.

Juhani had not broken her vigil, save for battle practice. Sleeping on a foldout bunk attached to the wall when she was able, eating little, she kept staring at the small tank. Lit from the floor and from behind, it seemed to glow a soft blue. She prayed to the Force, to the Elements, to Gods dead and alive, that somehow Kairi would live. When she wasn't, she was trying to fathom how events had come full circle. With half of her face covered by the breathing mask, the resemblance was greater, certainly. Still…Juhani remembered the woman who still resembled a goddess in her thoughts – the white robes trimmed in scarlet, the eyes dark as space, and how she seemed to float above the squalor of Taris. When she had heard of Sith Lord Revan, it seemed impossible. Of course, after her own foray into Darkness, it was a bit less of a stretch to her imagination as to how such a shining light could plunge into despair and rage.

But Kairi being the same as both…it seemed impossible at first! But Juhani could put together the smaller details. Kairi could no more abide suffering and genocide than Revan could. She remembered hearing that she had gone to the Czerka office in one last effort to plead for a peaceful solution to their conflict with the Sand People, only to face a brusque and angry dismissal of any solution other than mass slaughter. She remembered Kairi's barely controlled sorrow and rage on Kashyyyk when the slavers ran wild. Both times, she admitted it was not the thought of the Dark Side that stayed her hand, but the safety of those around her.

Had she been like Bastila – constantly told to forsake attachments and deny emotions…On the _Hawk_ , dogma of any sort took secondary consideration. The diverse histories and concepts of honor amongst the crew dictated that recourse. Quatra had an eccentric interpretation of Jedi precepts, even though she held strict standards, often weaving divergent concepts and the teachings of the many cultures she had visited into her teachings. Lessons that seemed bizarre at the time were now making perfect sense. Ah, more to add to the list of things to be grateful for should she ever see her beloved master again.

She sat in front of the tank cross-legged when her ears caught the faint sound of weeping from nearby. Standing, she went off in search of the noise, but could see no one in the room. With a deep breath, she reached out with her other senses and noticed it was coming from a maintenance panel. The cover was slightly ajar. She was able to pull it off when she discovered Mission, face streaked with grime and tears, half-curled into the cramped space. Upon being discovered, she looked embarrassed and upset to be found.

Mission wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "This is stupid! Here…here I am…bawling like some little kid!" She was wracked by another bout of sobbing, hugging her knees, and curling into a little ball, as if she could shrink away. Juhani knelt next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I would worry more for you if you did not cry, Mission," Juhani admitted. "Look at what's happened."

"B…but you don't cry, do you Juhani? You and…and Jolee…and Canderous…"

"Jolee is much too tired to cry, I think," Juhani explained with a sigh. "That, or the old man does his weeping in private. I think it is the latter. Though he will not call himself Jedi, habits are very hard to shatter. Our masters constantly tell us not to betray our emotions. We are to let them pass through us with no effect. That is the theory, anyway. In practice, we keep our stoic face long enough to escape away from anyone who may see us weep, and scold ourselves later for it."

"That…that sounds so wrong."

"Really? You grieve much like a Jedi – in the dark, alone, and with shame," said Juhani.

"Thanks a lot," Mission grumbled, getting to her feet and brushing the dust from her coveralls.

Juhani sighed, putting a hand on Mission's shoulders. "I do not have Kairi…Revan's gift of words, I'm afraid."

Mission shook her head, gesturing to Kairi's tank as she spoke. "I…I… My brain just can't wrap around the idea of her being a Sith Lord, y'know. She's the kindest person I've ever met!" she rubbed her arms and crossed her lekku as if cold. "Then there's Carth – it's like something crashed in his brain. And the look in his eyes – I didn't recognize who I was seeing, Juhani." She blinked, and fresh tears started to fall.

Juhani wasn't so certain how to comfort Mission and felt somewhat clumsy trying to make the attempt. There was so much of her young self in the Twi'lek, though Mission had a different interpretation of events and the topic of urban survival. Juhani had admired the girl's optimism and resiliency. She had always been the bright spot in dark times. It was painful indeed to see her so broken.

Mission shuddered. "Juhani, promise you aren't gonna laugh at me?"

"I swear on the honor of the Jedi," she said solemnly.

"Griff…Griff never talked about my mom and dad much. So, I did a lot of imagining – what they were like, y'know? I dreamed of having a home – a real home – and people who cared about me waiting there. Zaalbar's become the brother I wished Griff coulda been…and Kairi and Carth, well…" She sheepishly admitted the truth. "They've got fur on their heads and no lekku, but they're just like the mom and dad I imagined. To see 'em like this – Carth all crazy-mad and Kairi stuck in a kolto tank—it hurts, Juhani. It hurts so bad."

Juhani wrapped her arms around Mission the way her own mother would. Maybe there had been some small blessings in her life to know, and that she would attempt to share. "No, my friend. No…" Juhani reassured her. "I know grief. I sat by my own mother's deathbed, and to sit by Kairi as she lingers between the worlds…it pains me. And knowing Bastila is gone. We grieve for her loss as well." Juhani rubbed the Twi'lek girl's back as she cried into her shoulder. "Quatra was fond of saying that grief shared is grief halved. So, we grieve together, yes?"

"Carth…What hurt worst was when he started screaming that we weren't family, telling us our families were dead 'cause of Revan and Malak. He's right, I guess…I mean, it was all just a dream. My parents were probably more like Griff or something like that…"

"Mission, dear…Carth has a painful lesson of his own to learn. The choice to embrace or reject what the Force has offered is his alone. This does not make anything easier; I realize. Yet, if there is a time where we must all rely on each other, it is now."

"I guess…guess you're right." Mission thought a moment, the stepped out of the hug. "Well, since…since we have nothing to do but wait and talk, I was wondering something."

"And that would be?"

"Did you learn how to play Pazaak when you were down there in the Lower City? Bek and Vulkar variants?"

"I…cannot say as I did," Juhani said with a smile.

****

Oh, kriff…

He was back in the sickbay, sporting a nasty headache. That Tarisian ale binge was far from the brightest idea he had ever had. His head pounded and his mouth felt like something scraped up from the Lower City. Worse was that his stomach had inverted during his last (and mercifully brief) moment of consciousness, but that still hadn't kept his innards from doing the three-step jig.

He tried to sit up, only to find he couldn't move. He jerked against the invisible bonds, only to find they weren't going to budge. That's when the door opened and Jolee walked in.

"Good. You're awake."

"What do you want?" Carth said bitterly.

"Sorry about the restraining field. I activated it so you didn't hurt yourself. You almost died on me twice during the journey here, and that idiotic maneuver in the cargo bay. You planned on letting Mission and Canderous find you with your brains blasted out but stopped to get drunk before you did it. You deserve a worse hangover than that, but it would be wrong of me to give one to you."

"Did Revan die yet?"

Jolee glowered sharply at him. " _Kairi_ is in this station's medbay, and barely hanging on to life. Frankly, it's in the Force's hands if she makes it to another day, much less recovers."

"Kairi…" Carth's voice was choked. For a moment, he was grieving. His anger and rage quickly took hold again. "She never existed. Just another damn lie," he said bitterly.

Jolee shut the door and locked it. "No, I say what I mean. I didn't blab what I knew right away because I wanted to see whom we were dealing with. Now, the house is Revan's, some of those furnishings might be Revan's, but the occupant…" Jolee swore quietly. "The Council was luckier – and I _am calling it luck_ – than they deserved to be."

"She's Revan – _Darth_ Revan. No matter what the Council did, it still won't change that fact."

"No, what I knew was that Revan was captured, and the Jedi Council decided to play at being gods in order to get what they want – probably without the slightest consideration past it, though they'll profess otherwise." Jolee sighed.

"Does it matter? That woman's waded in blood. She betrayed the Republic once and look what happened. And I'm not going to betray –" He corrected himself. "Let her betray again."

Jolee folded his arms. "Nice try." Jolee moved in for the kill. "You're going to shut up and listen to me, Carth. Yes, I knew what Kairi was, but I kept quiet because she should have had the right to know first. And what do you think this is doing to her? The revelation, losing Bastila, and your hatred? She's an _empath_ , Carth. It's killing her as surely as surely as Malak's saber did. You're being quite selfish, just thinking of yourself."

"Selfish –?" Carth was about to let the old Jedi have it, but Jolee didn't let him get a word in.

"What? You think you're the only one that Revan or Malak caused grief? Look around, man! All of the people Mission and Juhani grew up with are dead in that Sith bombardment. Canderous calls you his brother because his kin perished at their hands." Jolee twisted the knife some more. "You think you're the only one who has lost a wife?"

"Jolee…you…"

"This is a story I've told no one in forty years," Jolee said bitterly. "It's one I wanted buried with me, but the time's come to tell it, I suppose. You need to hear it, so you will shut up and indulge this decrepit old man."

There was something too familiar in Jolee's voice. Carth kept silent.

Jolee sat heavily on the foldout bunk that he used as his own. "One thing I will—very reluctantly—grant the Sith is that the messier baggage of being a sentient scares Jedi out of their mind. It's something too many Jedi would rather run from than face," Jolee admitted. "It's why I never made it past Padawan, and probably would have made a very poor Knight, especially in the here and now. Exar Kun's War changed so much…"

Jolee sighed. "My wife's name was Nayama. I won't call it the smoothest of courtships – it did start with her shooting me out of the sky after all. I think I told you all about my foray into smuggling," he said.

"Mission…mentioned something about it."

"She was a hell of a woman. Fiery, determined, strong…and oh, that body…" He was smiling slightly with the memory. "Foiled three of my attempts to escape prison, too. I ended up having to kidnap her to escape the system! As I said, not the smoothest of courtships…" With a heavy sigh, he forced himself back into the present. "I could tell she was strong with the Force. That's how she was able to shoot me down in the first place. After we were wed, I trained her in secret – _after_ the Jedi Council forbade it. She was headstrong and proud, but I loved her…I loved her so much." He hung his head and sighed. "Like you, I married a great woman and lost her."

"She was killed in the War, you mean?"

"Yes," Jolee said "But I didn't lose Nayama as you lost your wife. The Force decided it wanted to be crueler than that. She joined the war with Exar Kun - as a Sith."

"Your wife jumped ship? She betrayed you, the Jedi, the Republic…?" Carth's head was spinning, and only part of that was due to the injuries. "What…what did you do?"

"I couldn't stop her. She came to me, pleading to throw off the 'decrepit trappings' of the Jedi. I tried reasoning with her, begged her to reconsider, but she would have none of it. In a rage, she drew her lightsaber."

Carth was stunned past belief. "You…you killed your wife?"

Jolee shook his head. "No. I had her unarmed and defenseless. She looked up at me and knew…she knew I couldn't."

"I…well, I couldn't either. Not in your boots. I…I mean Saul was one thing, but…"

"Ah, but I should have. I let her go, and she went on to kill many others before being killed herself in the final battle. I grieved for her death, inevitable though it was." Was it a trick of the light or was the elderly man battling tears? "All that fighting, all that madness, and in the big picture, it didn't seem to make a damn bit of difference. After all, the Sith are still here, right?"

"So, what did you do? I'll bet the Jedi kicked you out so fast you hit lightspeed."

"No, the Council wasn't happy. They put me on trial." But then Jolee said the unexpected. "And they found me innocent."

"Innocent?"

"I deserved compassion, they said. I learned wisdom the hard way, they said." Jolee threw up his hands and paced to the sickbay's small window. "I deserved every punishment and more, Carth. I don't have to explain it to you so much – you've walked this path."

Carth tried to make sense of what Jolee told him. Yes, he had walked that path, Saul arguing with him to "show a bit of sense" and resign his commission, then storming out. Carth keeping silent when Saul's aide asked him if the admiral was "acting strangely," and blowing the argument off as the heat of the moment and the half-bottle of Telosian brandy. How many lives could he have saved if he trusted his gut and not the illusion of friendship?

Jolee chuckled mirthlessly. "I probably would have better luck with the current crop of masters. They're so frightened it will happen again that the robes are more straitjackets. Not that I can blame them for being so overcautious—discouraging marriages, taking recruits from the cradle, elevating the council to a near-deity status, etcetera. Bastila is their best example of the Jedi they want, and she's so brittle that…" Jolee didn't want to say it aloud, obviously, but that possibility couldn't be discounted. "Even if we do rescue Bastila from the Dark Side, and stop the Sith this time, they'll be back. They always come back. It's blasphemy for me to admit this, but the Force doesn't like one extreme or another, I've noticed."

"So that's why the indifference? That's why you don't care that we have a Sith Lord on the ship, or why you don't think this whole thing with Malak matters."

"Not so much indifference as just being old and tired," Jolee admitted. "It sometimes works as a way to keep the pain and anger at arms' length – not exactly a Jedi's way, but I'm not exactly a Jedi. I will have to admit that Malak makes up in cruelty what Exar Kun had in cunning, though, and I don't exactly relish watching the Republic fall."

"Well good to know you give a damn about something."

"Oh, it'll fall one day, Carth. Everything dies eventually. Trust someone who's already got a foot in the grave. I used to think none of it mattered. That's why you saw me in the Shadowlands. I had been just waiting for the forest to claim me. But unlike me, who took his saber and walked into the woods with aspirations of oblivion, I've seen you do the bravest thing someone can do—start over and keep going. I will say this only once, Carth. What I see in you and Kairi is more courage than I ever had. The two of you walked into darkness willingly and together to try and fight it. More importantly is that I know damn well what you are to each other, and it's the most beautiful, rare, and terrifying thing in the universe. It won't amount to bantha pile if you turn away from it now. She needs you now more than she's ever needed you. You need her, too. Don't do what I did." He finished it off with a brusque. "Now, lecture's over. You think about what I said."


	7. Invasion

**Chapter 7  
Invasion**

It took them five days to repair most of the damage to the _Hawk_. It was also on the fifth day that Kairi recovered enough to be moved from the tank. Juhani flew into the ship's engine room, announcing the good news and practically hauling Jolee into the med bay. The droids had already taken her out of the tank and removed the ventilator. Juhani volunteered to help Kairi clean up and left out a set of clothes

Kairi recognized them as an old shirt and pants Mission had outgrown. The girl had already shot up almost three centimeters during their journey, and Kairi was shorter than her to start with. Whether intended or not, there seemed a silent message to her. She was not to refuse the clothing, or her continued survival.

Weak as she felt, she was able to dress with Juhani's assistance. As she was guided to a cot, Juhani tucked her in and propped up her head with pillows to better help her breathe. Most of this was done in silence. She barely had the strength to speak, and Juhani silenced most of her attempts to do so. After this was done, Juhani took a seat by her bed, smoothing stray locks from Kairi's forehead.

Did they know? Did they know the monster she was? Did they know what Bastila had done? Kairi was about to ask, but Juhani placed a finger on Kairi's lips to silence her.

"It was Revan who saved me from slavery…Jedi Revan…leading an army against the Mandalorians…It was you…" Juhani's thickly-accented Basic seemed to bounce off the walls here, and her gentle concern and warmth made Kairi blush with shame. “Beautiful sister, you have saved me twice.”

So, they did know. And they still wanted her alive. Kairi felt a bitter disappointment at this. She hoped that they would destroy her once they knew, or just let her go. After all, Carth certainly rejected her hard. And Bastila…

But to have Juhani – a Jedi – know fully the abomination she was and still feel as she did?

 _It was me…The Sith Lord…the ravager of worlds…_ She could not look Juhani in the eye, hanging her head with shame. "I remember nothing," she said hollowly. "They all know, right?"

"Yes," Juhani said. "Carth…told us. Jolee already knew."

There was a momentary flash of anger and betrayal, like when she found out Bastila's lies. Still, it made sense that Jolee wouldn't have been able to say anything…not if Bastila had begged his silence. "How…why didn't you all let me perish? No one would have cared if –"

Juhani grabbed her shoulders. "You did not strike me down when I embraced Darkness, and while you cannot remember – _I can._ I knew something had gone horribly wrong when I heard that you became the Dark Lord. You were the woman who saved me on Taris – the woman who held my future in her eyes. And on Dantooine, the Force brought you to me again."

"I never wanted you to feel obligated to me, Juhani."

"It is no obligation. Even if you had not been Revan, you are still Kairi – still my friend and companion, still the woman I…care for…as though she were my sister, my own blood."

Another voice broke in. "I don't see a Dark Lord in front of me. I see a friend – some who's been there through thick and thin."

Mission walked into the room, Zaalbar at her heels. Kairi searched them for any sign of condemnation or fear…and found none.

Zaalbar patted the top of her head, almost causing her to want to shrink into the pillows. << _"I know nothing of Sith Lord Revan. I know only of Kairi Niko, and I judge you only as the person I have seen and sworn life-debt to, and who aided in freeing my people. Not on a past I neither know nor care about." >>_

"Big Z and I will stick by you. We owe you our lives," Mission said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. "Besides, you don't remember anything about being the Dark Lord, do you?"

Kairi shook her head. "Nothing before Taris. Well, aside from a few strange dreams, which I already told you about."

"Just a few flashes? Then, I don't see what's the big deal." Mission shrugged. "You are who you are now, right?"

"But…Taris…"

"Hey, last I checked, Malak and that Saul guy were the ones dropping bombs. You were hiding out in the _Hawk_ with the rest of us."

She felt Juhani's lightly furred hand grasp her hand. Mission's hand covered it, and Zaalbar gripped their joined hands easily with his large paw. Kairi shuddered. It was overwhelming…support when she expected condemnation. When she deserved their hatred and worse… Why were they so willing to gamble their lives – and the lives of so many others – on her?

She yanked her hand away. "I'm…I'm sorry…"

Before anyone could say a word in response, the station shuddered, the lights flickering. They were able to keep their feet, but the alert signals sent them racing back towards the command center. Tam was swearing loudly as he banged the controls.

_< <"They came back. Damn them. I told them I wasn't finished yet, so they decide to kill me and rob what they can.">> _He looked up. <, _"Better you get out of here. You no need to get caught in crossfire, and they won't be happy to see other guests." >>_

Canderous had run into the room. Checking the sensors, he cursed. "Tam, the smart thing might be to save our hides and run, but I'm not about to run from a fight. Anyone else feeling the same way can stay put. The rest of you – head for the _Hawk_."

<<" _They want what's here, so they will dock and board. Could get really ugly. I stay here. There still a few tricks I can use. Rest of you can use whatever you can grab of my inventions if you want to fight_.">>

Juhani patted her lightsaber. "I will do fine."

Zaalbar drew Bacca's blade from the scabbard on his back. Mission handed him her own vibroblade for his off hand before snatching up a blaster rifle. She whistled at the readout. "Yikes. This stuff could punch holes in permacrete."

Canderous carried his cannon, of course. It never was far from his reach. "Take positions, just like that drill I ran three days ago. Scenario eight." He hit his comlink. "Jolee, you’ve got the _Hawk_. The stabilizers aren't quite fixed, but she can still fly."

It was Carth who answered. _"I've got her. Jolee's on the station somewhere."_

"Are you crazy, man?"

"No crazier than you. The Trandoshan ship's extended the docking clamp. I'm giving you sixty seconds before you'll be neck deep in them. Get them distracted, and I'll take care of the rest."

The com signal cut. Canderous made a disparaging grumble and motioned everyone to get into position.

Carth still wasn't 100 percent, and neither was the _Hawk_ , but he figured that he might be able to coax enough from both. He knew the Trandoshan ship probably read the presence of the ship in the repair bay already. But he was willing to gamble that they didn't know how far along those repairs were.

Let's see…cut the power to minimum, keep the power grid misaligned so that the _Hawk_ looked to be on the way to the scrap heap. Of course, that came with the gamble that if life support wasn't 100 percent, he'd end up flash-frozen.

"C'mon," he told the ship as he readied the takeoff sequence. "Time to show you an old trick from the Mandalorian Wars."

"Query: Auxiliary Master, is there any assistance I may render?”

HK-47? He turned around to see the red-plated droid standing in the cockpit doorway. Dimly, he recalled that Revan…Kairi…whoever she was…ordered the droid to assist him until she recovered. Under most circumstances, being given the keys to the Sith Lord's personal assassin droid would be the last thing he would ever want. Under the _current_ circumstances…

"You checked the weapons status, right?"

"Statement: Our weapon status is aft turret operating at seventy-five percent while the forward turret is disabled. Shield generators are currently off-line. Query: What is it you propose doing?"

"Get in that aft turret. I'm just going to have to hope that we don't take a hit," Carth said, making another check of the panel. "The plan is to look like bait – and not become it."

The _Scorekeeper's Triumph_ had a crew of two-dozen according to Tam. Out of that, he detected twenty of them in the boarding party. It had been a damn good thing, Canderous reflected, that he had the crew practice drills here.

The Trandoshans were good – splitting up into three teams to come in by separate airlocks. They probably hadn't counted on Mission and Zaalbar being stationed at one of those airlocks, using piles of cargo crates as cover. The second had the two Jedi watching it, and Juhani could sneak around and pick them off.

It was the third airlock that wasn't adequately guarded. Tam tried to seal it, but it was too late.

 _< "They breached,">> _Tam said. << _" They got a good slicer. I can't access controls in that section. I'll send the droids, but that's only gonna slow them." >>_

"All we might have to do is slow them."

_< <"The bad news was that airlock is closest to this command center.">> _Tam picked up a rifle from under his workbench – a particularly vile model with a few highly-illegal alterations that increased its capacity for damage.

"Just great," Canderous grumbled as he pushed a workbench away from the wall to provide cover.

Five of them were in the team that stormed the first cargo bay. Two carried nasty-looking vibroblades in their clawed, scaly fingers. The other three carried blaster rifles that bordered on small cannons. Their serpentine heads and yellow eyes searched the cargo bay. The squad's leader stopped the crew with the flat of his blade and sniffed.

_< <"Tam lied to us about the Exchange not being here, and now he lies to us about his guests. There is a Wookiee's stench here.">>_

_< <"Wookiees won't fight. They let Czerka beat the courage out of them as they cower in the trees,">> _said one of the rifle-carriers with a hissing laugh.

No sooner has it left his mouth than two metallic clinks hit the floor. There was only enough time for the leader to shout out a sibilant curse and dive for cover. Two of the smart ones followed suit. The other three hesitated a second too long.

BOOM! It was a two-for-one attack. One was a fragmentation grenade (one of Zaalbar's homemade ones) that sent shards of metal flying. The second was a plasma grenade—super-heated gasses that turned into white-hot flame upon contact with oxygen. The fire would only last a second because of the accelerant burning itself up, but it was enough to make contact with clothing and skin exposed by the rends the frag grenade made in their armor. One of them was dead before hitting the floor, the second was an unconscious mangled heap, and the third was howling with pain, covering his shrapnel-wounded face, blood leaking from one dead eye.

That left one rifle-carrying leader and the squad leader still in any position to fight. He made a signal to split up and charged to the left. The corridors were dark, but there was still enough light to detect movement, and still a strong enough scent of his prey in the air.

_< <"Come out,">> _he said. << _"Show your face and fight if you are willing. Or stand before me so I can slaughter you like the coward you are." >>_

As if in answer, the lights switched on to blindingly bright, blinding him for a moment as he staggered back. When his eyes were able to adjust to the brightness, he saw the Wookiee before him – armed with a large warblade with intricate runes in one hand, a smaller blade (barely more than a dagger with his large size) in his other hand.

Covering his fear with bravado, the leader mocked. << _"I am Captain Saarast of the Scorekeeper's Triumph. And who is it I will slaughter so that the Great Scorekeeper shall know my deed?" >>_

The Wookiee readied his blades. << _"Chieftain Zaalbar. And my people are no longer slaves, Trandoshan. We can – and will – fight." >>_

The leader raised his blade. << _"Prove it." >> _He charged.

Jedi Guardians and Consulars were the opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to factions within the Order. Being a Guardian, Juhani was more inclined to face the enemy head on, while Consular Jedi like Jolee were more trained for outthinking a foe. This sometimes made working in tandem a bit of a challenge. In this case, however, the differences in style meshed perfectly.

With a graceful flick of her wrist, Juhani's ruby sabers deflected the volley of incoming blaster fire. In one case, the shot ricocheted right back to its place of origin, and the Trandoshan had to pitch his rifle across the corridor to keep from getting caught in the explosion when it overloaded. Juhani kept closing the gap, parrying their fire.

_< <"Jedi? Tam keeps Jedi on his station. We're in trouble now!">>_

_< <"Shut up and keep firing.">>_

There was a thin, orange glow about her – energy shield – they realized. This wasn't what they heard about Jedi – Jedi were strong warriors, they'd heard, but also had a reputation for impractical behavior in combat. The energy shield was indicative of a Jedi who was more practical than they expected. As she walked forward, the mercs fell back. Seeing a doorway with bulkheads they could use for cover, they ran in and found cover to keep shooting.

As soon as they did, a door came crashing down behind them. They were distracted for a split second, and the Jedi tossed her offhand lightsaber in an almost casual manner, tripping a mechanism with the hilt before it returned to her hand.

The door in front of them crashed down.

Trapped.

Through the port on the aft bulkhead, they looked out to see who had trapped them. Jolee flashed them a toothy grin and waved.

The seven Trandoshans attempting to blast open the command center were furious indeed. They weren't about to broker any insult from what they saw as a cheating old Rodian and a handful of friends. When they finally "persuaded" the command center door to open by use of a putty explosive, they saw their quarry hiding behind a workbench, antennae poking up and snout resting on the top of it, along with the rifle barrel. One of them laughed.

_< <"Making your last stand here, Tam? You give us what we want, or we take it from your wrinkled green hide!">>_

_< <"You no scare me,">> _Tam bluffed. << _"You must have seen the_ Ebon Hawk _here. Exchange told you to go away or they come back with powerful friends. You shoot me, and Davik be most unhappy with you!" >>_

_< <"The ship survived, Davik didn't. You just hand over everything on this station, and we might leave you here with life support operating. We not scared of Davik's surviving lackeys.">>_

A cannon shot blasted through the air and hit the taunting mercenary square-on. Upon impact, his body exploded and soaked his fellows in what used to be his bones and organs. The rest dropped to the floor or jumped back. They returned fire. Tam let off another shot, wounding one of the Trandoshans before being forced to duck the incoming volley of fire. They shot everywhere and everything! Tam let out a howl of despair as a droid he'd been working on for months was turned to charred parts. At least they weren't advancing.

That's when he saw, out the corner of his eye, a silver sphere with a red line fly towards the invaders.

_< <"What? You crazy!">> _Tam shouted.

_< <"Thermal Detonator!">> _yelled one of the mercenaries.

Fortunately, he picked his hiding spot carefully, right next to the emergency override panels. One jerk of the red lever at his feet brought down the fire door. There was a terrific explosion that rocked the whole station as a fireball shot out from the corridor and belched flame in a stream right above Tam's head that was so hot his antenna were singed before the door sealed. A jerk of a blue knob opened another emergency hatch and vented the area to space.

No more gunfire. Tam leaned against the workbench, breathing heavily _. <<"Too old for this!">>_

Canderous snickered as he walked up to Tam. "It was just four-to-one odds, and a thermal detonator can certainly level a playing field when needed."

Tam looked up at him. << _"Mandalorian right, but Mandalorian also crazy. Could have killed us." >>_

"And what a wonderful battle it would have been," Canderous said.

Tam pointed out the large window at the front. << _"Looks like they cut losses and started running." >>_

The ship had withdrawn its docking clamp and boarding gear and was starting to take off from the station. From the other side of the station, the _Ebon Hawk_ launched out of the bay, its movements wobbly and slow compared to how Canderous remembered the ship's gait.

"No, they aren't running," he muttered. "Damn fool, the ship's only half-repaired, and if he's doing what I think…"

_< <"You mean, your pilot another Mandalorian?">>_

"No, but he fights like one," Canderous muttered. “Crazy _di’kut_.”

Tam shrugged in an almost casual fashion. << _"If you call him crazy, I wouldn't want to be the other ship…" >>_

On the bridge of the Trandoshan ship, the pilot looked at the remaining officer. << _"Looks like Tam is going to run for it." >>_

_< <"Judging by the ship's status,">> _said the officer. << _"It's not going to get far. Those who have survived can take care of whoever's left on Tam's station. We get that ship!" >>_

They retracted the docking gear and started to move.

"They took the bait," Carth said. "HK, I'm pouring as much power as I can to those guns. Hold on."

The Trandoshan ship took a shot that nearly clipped the wing. Somehow, Carth managed to pull out of the way before it would have hit. Pushing all thoughts out of his mind, he went into the old patterns of starship battle. He pulled this trick with an A-wing during the Mandalorian war – look like easy prey until they get into the gun sights. Unfortunately, that move meant you pretty much were easy prey until they closed in, and even then, you only got one good hit before they realized the trick.

Here was hoping one good hit was all they would need.

_"The difference between a man and an animal, Onasi,"_ Saul had once said. _"Is that a wounded animal does anything to flee danger or to escape a trap. They were designed to run away. Now, a man…a man lies in wait for the fool that sprung the trap, plays dead until they approach and then makes them very sorry for setting that trap in the first place. There's no shortage of bodies, but I appear to be short on men…"_

These Trandoshans were really going to be sorry, he hoped. He made another check of the readouts, punching up the reserve power…steady…just enough to keep the boat flying. He pulled the controls back, and jammed it at a forty-five-degree angle, anticipating another shot. Unfortunately, with the _Hawk_ being actually wounded, and only pretending to be worse, the controls weren't responding fast enough, and the shot grazed the starboard side, sending a tremor and making the controls even more sluggish.

Carth swore and rerouted the power regaining some of the mobility. He'd show those pirates for damaging his ship! Time to give them a taste of what he showed the Mandalorians. Another jerk of the controls, and the G-Force hit like a brick, slamming him back against the seat. His wounded hands ached with the effort of holding the controls, the ship's sirens were going off.

And the Trandoshans were getting right where he wanted them.

_< <"They got a good pilot, but the ship's crippled. Plasma leak starboard.">>_

_< <"Where is the ship headed?">>_

_< <"It's headed for some asteroids. Nickel and iron cores with a methane shell. Maybe it thinks to hide.">>_

_< <"Follow him!">>_

They took the bait! Carth twisted the controls around for a pass. With the shields out, this move would be even riskier, but from what he knew of Trandoshan scout ships like this one, their shields were designed for energy, and not anything else. Pirates like these spent their credits on weapons and went for ships that weren't going to fight back, so shield generators were often minimal, as they were quite expensive.

Carth cut the engines, going on inertia. Without friction in space, he would at least keep a steady speed. The last thing he needed was excessive engine exhaust. Unfortunately, steering was out of the question. If he timed this wrong…The concept of a nasty death out in the black didn't seem like such a bad thing, though. One of the methane-coated asteroids loomed larger and larger out the forward port of the _Hawk._

Closer…

Trandoshan ship blasting forward at the rear, frozen death ahead. There were only a few seconds left.

_< <"He's gonna ram it!">>_

_< <"No, he's not. No pilot is that stupid, especially one with a crippled ship like his. I think he's bluffing. Accelerate and close in!">>_

Closer…

_"Warning: Uh…Auxiliary Master, we are looming very close to that asteroid. May I suggest course correction?"_

"Not yet keep those guns on the asteroid!" he shouted as he flipped the switches and dials. Hopefully, that damage was minimal, and they still had enough power. Well, now or never…

He jammed a couple switches and yanked out a throttle. Full reverse thrusters! He gave a whoop of delight as the ship rocketed backwards, passing right beneath the Trandoshan vessel. The Trandoshan ship, still caught in forward acceleration, couldn’t pull back in time as it skidded ominously against the surface. Space may have been soundless, but Carth half-imagined the scrape of metal. "NOW!"

A tinny, disturbing chuckle echoed through the com as the droid blasted the asteroid. Energy ignited methane. Methane evaporated in burst of flame. Flame caught the leaking plasma of the wounded pirate ship. Plasma exploded, shattering the asteroid's rocky core.

When the fireball consumed itself, the only things left of the asteroid and pirate ship were hunks of charred metal and fist-sized lumps of rock. The _Hawk_ had barely made it clear, and was protesting over doing such maneuvers with a half-rebuilt engine, but they were alive, and Carth was able to coax the ship back into the docking bay.

***

The clang and crash of swords echoed off the walls, and the bulkheads boasted gashes as Zaalbar and the Trandoshan captain exchanged blows. Trandoshans were smaller, but very muscular. They had already wounded each other several times, the captain's face weeping blood from a long gash and Zaalbar bleeding from the shoulder and a slice near his ribs that had nearly been fatal.

_< <"You fight well for a slave,” >> _The captain said as a back-handed compliment. << _"You surrender, and you live." >>_

Zaalbar countered, blocking the swipe coming in for him, and moving for the counterattack. The captain blocked the swipe coming in on his right, but not the smaller blade in Zaalbar's off-hand. The shot landed true! Zaalbar yanked Mission's blade from the captain's chest, and blood poured from the wound. The reptilian pirate looked genuinely shocked to be taken down.

_< "If you are…your people's future…then they are lucky…">>_

Zaalbar started limping for the command center, away from his now-dead foe.

By the time he arrived, most of the crew had already met back there. Mission gasped when she saw his wounds. Jolee rushed over and started Force-healing, grumbling come comment about "never being able to stop helping out young Wookiees."

_< <"Their captain is dead. I fought him,">> _Zaalbar said. << _"Mission, did you kill the hunter sent after you?" >>_

She scowled and shook her head. "I…I lost him somewhere on the lower deck. I thought he met up with the ones Jolee and Juhani trapped."

Canderous made a quick count. "Twenty Trandoshans. You and Zaalbar took out four. Seven tried storming the command center…Juhani, how many are stuck in the airlock?"

"There were six of them," Juhani answered.

"Damn!" Canderous said. "Three of them unaccounted for."

Juhani's eyes widened, and she gasped. "The infirmary! Quickly!"

***

The three that remained knew they were doomed. No response from the teams, no response from the ship. The one with the rifle met up with the two carrying swords and charged the infirmary. What they saw was a small human female lying in one of the old medical beds. She was small and looked weak enough. Just what they needed for a hostage to barter their ways out of this place. The rifle-carrier shouted to the other two to grab her.

The woman's eyes opened, but the rest of her face was chillingly blank. She seemed to stare right through them, and he felt raw fear invade his skull. It was like cold fingers had reached inside him and were squeezing his brain. One of the swordsmen dropped to his knees, shrieking, and clawing at his head. The other started quaking, his sword falling uselessly to the floor as he slumped against the wall.

That's when, too late, he remembered one of the broadcasts from the other teams. Tam had Jedi aboard this station. He raised his gun in his trembling fingers, anger trying to override the fear to keep his aim steady…

The other crew members burst into the room to see it – two of the Trandoshans on the floor, one screaming incoherently, the other propped up in the corner in a catatonic state. The third was about to shoot. Juhani shouted and made to jump him, but there wasn't enough time…

Kairi made a small gesture – squeezing her hand shut. Unseen to the pirate, the energy cell on his rifle was groaning under the pressure…

There was a bright green flash as the weapon discharged, but instead of blasting Kairi, the energy cell literally melted down and backfired, throwing the Trandoshan pirate against the wall and leaving a circle of scorch marks a meter in diameter. There was a gaping charred hole where the pirate's chest used to be. Armor, rifle pieces, and flesh had fused together in one foul-smelling burn.

The serpentine eyes were frozen in an expression of shock.

There was no change of expression on Kairi's face as she closed her eyes and dropped into dreamless sleep.

***

Carth pulled the _Hawk_ back into the docking bay and powered down the systems, sending an updated list of the ship's diagnostics to the repair droids. He had risen from his seat with the intention of returning to his bunk.

But as he walked the corridors of the ship, he kept noticing the small things. A Pazaak card on a table. Carth picked it up and remembered all the games of it played to pass the time. He brushed his fingers against the table in the galley and remembered the last communal meal, singing ribald songs as they all laughed and passed around the rations.

The small details had been so invisible on a day to day basis, but now they seemed to be all he could notice. A picture tacked onto a wall to make the space appear a little less blank, a wooden box set on a bulkhead ledge full of small stones and other meditation foci. He walked through the armory and stared at a pile of crates. Once, he sat on those crates with Canderous, joking, boasting, and sharing war stories.

He passed one of the ports and started off into the darkness… _"What is it you see?"_ He remembered Juhani's lilting accent asking the question back in the Kashyyyk forest.

Somehow, he ended up in the room Mission shared with Zaalbar. Exhausted, he plopped on Zaalbar's bunk and put his head in his hands. Mission kept a collage of holos above her bunk – pictures snapped during their travels. One of them had come loose and fallen to her bunk. Carth picked it up.

This had been taken back on Manaan when Bastila was recovering in the hospital. She had asked everyone to gather at the foonga field for this. Jolee was staring down the camera with an expression of mock annoyance. Juhani stood next to him, smiling serenely. Canderous stood next to her, grinning as the camera caught him in mid-joke. Zaalbar sat cross-legged on the grass, laughing. Mission waved to the camera, a smile like sunshine lighting up the whole picture as she leaned into Kairi's hug. In the picture, Carth was standing right in the back of them. One arm was looped around Kairi's waist, the other around Mission's shoulders.

_As if she were my own…_ Carth's chest ached. Mission wasn't Dustil. Hell, she wasn't even the same species! But…it wasn't Saul talking about sending Dustil to the Sith that made him angriest. It was when that slime spoke of his plans for Mission…and when he believed the rest of the crew dead or worse.

_I made a vow, Morgana. I wanted to see it through. But I didn't count on…I never counted on being happy._

As if in answer, he heard a voice at the door. "Carth?"

Mission was watching him warily. He showed her the picture. "It…came loose," he tried to explain. "I owe you an apology, kiddo, a big one."

She accepted his apology with a hug.

"Mission, I'm sorry. I _never_ wanted to hurt you," he admitted. "I'm…I just don't…" he sighed. "Mission, I'm confused. Maybe a little scared right now."

"Yeah," she admitted. "Me, too."

As a way to test out the repairs to the Hawk's hyperdrive, they found a habitable, but remote, planetoid to maroon the surviving pirates. When they returned, they weren't the only ones preparing to leave. Tam had a small ship he used for his jaunts to Yavin 4, and for the rare trip outside the system. They found him loading it with provisions and a crew full of his droids.

_< <"There's not so much left here – no Exchange, no Trandoshans. I can pack up my weapons and sell them elsewhere.">>_

"They'll fetch a good price Tam," Canderous said. "But you're sure you want to continue working for the Exchange?"

Tam shrugged. << _"Hutts don't pay their bills. Exchange does." >> _He admitted. << _"I can pretty much set up weapon shops where I like. Spacers always need weapons. So do mercenaries and colonists. Don't worry about me. I be okay." >>_

"I'm sure you will."

_< <"As for you, you treat Hawk well, and she treat you well. That's a fine little ship. I was happy to make all those modifications to her. You'll find that I made your guns nastier and shields stronger. Least I can do for you saving life and all.">>_

"Thank you. Now, all I have to do is round up the crew."

_"I saw the little Jedi woman a bit ago. She's in one of the workshops. I offered her a pick of any of my weapons, but she said she was going to build her own."_

_****_

Tam's excavations of Yavin yielded the perfect ingredients. He had no use for lightsabers and the like, so they usually ended up being recycled into droid plating.

Kairi had asked each of the crew in turn if they wanted to continue their task. The vote was unanimous to continue. The vote was also unanimous to welcome her back aboard the _Hawk_ , even though they all knew now of the terrible secret. Carth's vote was the most surprising, but when she asked him in private about it, he seemed a parsec away. It was as if a blast door had slammed down between them.

_"The others seem to trust you, and I guess Malak really is the enemy here. Don't worry, I won't let my…personal feelings get in the way of this mission. We still have one Star Map to find if we're going to discover the Star Forge and rescue Bastila. But…" he warned. "I won't let you betray the Republic…"_

His rejection was heartbreaking – but expected.

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

_There is no love; there is loss._

She pulled the makeshift ring from her finger. As much as she cherished it as a gift of kindness and offer of protection, it would only cause pain now.

_Do not allow sentiment to cloud your focus. Discard what is no longer necessary to achieve your goal, including your allies._

A second thought countered the first like a Soresu parry from an incoming blade. _If you aren’t going to war to protect others…then you’re fighting it for the wrong reasons._

She didn’t have the strength to throw it away. Using the tools at the workbench, Kairi shaped the light metal into the perfect tube, wrapping leather around the hilt so that the grip fit correctly to her small hands. She looped the wire ring into a thin strap of leather near the pommel, hidden from view, but she could feel it when she gripped the saber. It was now time to set the crystals.

The first was from Iziz's collection of "shiny stones" he traded in gratitude for the release of his people. It glowed a soft purple from within as she set it. _When you are sand, we will remember…_

Second was from the Dantooine wedding – a soft blue shard. _Ah, yes, Master Jedi. The crystal means that you'll have a large family._

The last was from Zaalbar. He and Mission had found the stones while exploring the Dantooine caves, and he had placed one in the hilt of Bacca's Blade and handed her the other shard. _I judge you only as the person I have seen and sworn life-debt to, not on a past I neither know nor care about._

Standing up from her cross-legged position, she ignited the first switch. A long blade the color of rich wine shot out from the end.

Purple – the color favored by Jedi Revan.

She swung it, evaluating the weight and the gyroscopic force of the blade. It was a powerful weapon to be certain. She held the blade out at ready and slid the other switch. A matching blade of deep purple grew from its other end.

Double-sided – the style Bastila carried. A tribute to both edges of her nature, both aspects of her creation.

_I am only a weapon, a tool. They loved a shadow and will It would have been better for them if I never was. They will realize it in time._

Kairi nodded and turned off the blade. One more Star Map, then off to face Malak. _I will destroy what threatens them, but I will not live past it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I have queued up for the time being. Still kinda scratching my head about Korriban (8 chapters in and still not quite done! Could also use a beta) and would like to flesh out Lehon, so suggestions on what you'd like to see for everyone (including character combinations and arcs that Need More Love) would be totally amaze-balls and I will totally give credit where credit's due on that.

**Author's Note:**

> I told everyone that is was going to get dark, and I'm not kidding on that front. A few more content tags have to be added for this one, I'm afraid. 
> 
> I thank everyone for their comments. Comments are fuel, please don't be afraid to throw some onions in with the roses; the only way to improve is honesty and I've been writing since the zine era with the burn marks and bes'kar plate to show for it. 
> 
> In light of new restrictions, and a new laptop, it will hopefully clear the path for more writing which is one of the few batches of lemonade I can make out of 2020. Fuck you, Coronavirus. May those vaccines be a success and you be banished soon.


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